A Kidnapping Catastrophe
by You'llRememberMe
Summary: Shawn and Gus get hired on a new case for the SBPD. This one is the kidnapping of a little girl. As they investigate things get more dangerous when Shawn himself is kidnapped. No slash. Shawn!Whump. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Sorry that there isn't action in this chapter but I needed something to start off of. The next one will have what you've been waiting for**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or any of it's characters. I don't own anything else I may have mentioned here, except what I make up.**_

_**A/N #2: Do I have to put a disclaimer on every chapter?**_

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Detective Carlton Lassiter groaned as the "psychic", Shawn Spencer, waltzed into the room and shouted, "Hello my fellow working Americans!"

The officers in the vacinity stopped what they were doing and stared as Spencer continued, "I know I have been absent for far too long, but I am here now and that is all that matters! Plus," Spencer grabbed a large covered basket from his partner, Burton Guster, and continued, "I have come bearing gifts!" He uncovered the basket with a dramatic flourish to reveal it held at least a dozen pineapples. Of course. Spencer had and obsession with those things, an obsession that Lassiter had always found slightly disturbing.

Lassiter was just about to dig out the earplugs he had in his top desk drawer, because he had discovered several months ago that they were the only things that even partially blocked out Spencer's "psychic" fits. But he didn't get them in quite fast enough this time.

Spencer ambled over to his desk, a mischievous grin on his face, and that's when Lassiter knew that his day was officially going downhill. And it wasn't bound to get any better he knew.

"Carlytown!" Spencer said cheerfully, "I sense you missed me. Do you want a hug?" He and Guster both held their arms out but Lassiter ignored them.

"Spencer, shut it. I haven't missed you at all. In fact," Lassiter smirked, "it has actually been quite peaceful without you. And, believe it or not, we solve cases without you, too."

"Well, ouch, Lassie-face," Spencer clutched his chest dramatically, "No need to be so harsh." He smiled again, that gleam in his eye still there, "You don't need to hide your feelings. The other detectives missed us too. Right, Jules?" The three men turned their attention to the pretty blonde woman walking by.

Lassiter's partner, Juliet O'Hara, stopped and looked up from the case file she had been reading. A sudden smile crossed her face. "Shawn! Gus! I haven't seen you two around lately. What've you been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Guster waved a hand dismissively, "the private cases have been taking up a lot of time lately."

"The more important question is: how have you been?" Spencer asked, sounding genuinely concerned, "How is Juliet?"

"Same old, same old." O'Hara answered smiling still. How she put up with these two Lassiter would never know. It was even more of a mystery as to why she liked them at all.

"Never mind all this 'how are you' crap." Lassiter said curtly, "Why are you two delinquents here anyway?"

"The Chief called us down. Said she had a big, no, _huge_ case for us." Spencer and Guster both looked smug now.

"A case?" Lassiter wondered why the Chief hadn't put him on this case if it was so important. "O'Hara, did you here anything about this?"

The younger detective looked as perplexed as Lassiter felt, and you could hear it in her voice when she spoke, "No... I haven't. Why didn't the Chief put us on the case?"

"Maybe she thought it was just too much for you and Lassie to handle on your own." Spencer suggested.

"That's ridiculous, Spencer, and you know it." Lassiter snapped, still wondering about this case. _What could it be? An explosion? O'Hara took the last case with an explosion so I still haven't done one of those. If this case has an explosion involved I-,_ Lassiter's inner monologue was cut short by Chief Vick's voice.

"Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, it's about time you showed up! Get in here! You, too, detectives!"

_I guess I'm about to find out what this 'huge' case really is, _Lassiter thought, _and why the Wonder Twins got notified first._

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

The four of them walked toward Vick's door, but as they neared it Shawn sped up and so did Lassiter. When they reached it both of them lunged for the doorknob at the same time, both vying for control. While they were struggling Gus and Juliet just looked at each other. The two of them knew that everything was a constant contest for the detective and the consultant and it was starting to irritate them a little more each time.

Finally Juliet stepped in and pushed the door open, causing Lassiter and Shawn to tumble into a big heap on the floor inside the Chief's office. Lassiter tried to push himself up, but Shawn was right on top of him trying to do the same thing except he couldn't because his right arm was caught under Lassiter.

"Dammit! Get off me, Spencer!" Lassiter growled.

"I can't!" Shawn said, "My arm is stuck!"

"O'Hara! Mr. Guster! Help these two idiots up!" Vick exclaimed in exasperation.

Gus pulled Shawn's arm out from under Lassiter and helped him to his feet while Juliet tried to help Lassiter, but he just waved her off and got up. He brushed himself off and asked the Chief, "So what have we been called in for? A case with an explosion, perhaps?"

"No, Detective, there has not been an explosion." To Shawn it looked like Lassiter was a little disappointed.

Shawn suddenly caught sight of a plane ticked wedged in a travel brochure to Hawaii on Vick's desk. He thought that now would be a perfect time for one of his psychic "visions". Suddenly he gasped, "I'm having a vision!"

"Oh, just _perfect._" Lassiter spat.

Shawn brought a hand to his temple in his signature move, "I see... I see sunny beaches and water and... and Israel Kamakasomething!"

"What?" Juliet asked just as Shawn burst into song.

"_Somewhere over the rainbow-" _Gus cut him off before he could finish

"It's Kamakawiw'ole, Shawn." He said.

"Dude, how do you know that?" He asked and Gus opened his mouth, but Shawn just talked over him, "Nevermind." Suddenly he gasped again, "Chief Vick! You're going to Hawaii, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Spencer. But while that's impressive it's not what I've called you in for."

"I've had enough of this!" Lassiter said, sounding supremely pissed-off, "Just get to it."

"Lassiter is right. So I'll just cut to the chase." Vick agreed. "There's been a kidnapping of a young girl."

Everyone in the room shared a glance. Kidnappings were the worst. On both the families, the person in question, and the police. But somehow they could all already tell that this one would take home the prize for the absolute worst. It was something in the Chief's voice that tipped them off.

"A real estate mogul's daughter. A daughter who is only five years old. And here's the worst part," Everyone braced themselves, "We have no indication that she's alive at all. There was blood all over the girl's room. Too much." Vick grimaced just like the others did.

"Name?" Lassiter was always the first to get back on task.

"Arlene Simmons. Goes by Lena." The Chief answered. "She was kidnapped about three hours ago by an unknown person driving a blue truck. There have been no leads so far."

"Why weren't we put on right away?" Lassiter snapped at the Chief.

"Calm down, Detective," Vick told him, "There was a jurisdictional dispute with the Coast Guard. You see, she was kidnapped off her family's yacht."

"A yacht?" Shawn and Gus asked while Lassiter and Juliet asked, "Then how do we know what the perp was driving?"

The Chief ignored the consultants and answered the detectives. "We put out an Amber Alert as soon as we were sure she was missing and didn't fall off the boat and drown. About thirty minutes later we got a tip from someone at a Starbucks saying that they saw someone shove a little girl fitting Arlene's description into a dark blue truck. That solved the jurisdiction problem, and now here we are."

"Alright," Lassiter said, "O'Hara and I will head to the Starbucks and have a look around." Both detectives started to head out of the room.

"Take these two," Vick indicated Shawn and Gus, "with you."

"Do we have to?" Lassiter asked, but then he saw the Chief's glare, "Fine. Come on then."

"Oh! Can we get a taco first?" Shawn asked.

The two detectives exited the room with the psychic and his partner close behind. They all knew kidnappings were bad, but they would never expect what was coming next.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N (6/21/11): I'm going through my story and trying to edit it. I made too many mistakes for me to be happy, so I'm attempting to fix it.**_

_**ENJOY!**_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

The group of four arrived at the Starbucks' parking lot fairly quickly after stopping at Taco Bell at the insistence of Shawn and Gus. Fairly quickly meaning it took only a couple minutes since they were on the same stretch of highway. To their credit, the consultants managed to eat in the car without incident, which was good considering it was Lassiter's car and he'd probably shoot them if they'd dirtied up his leather seats.

Lassiter was the first one out, looking as professional as ever, followed closely by Juliet, Gus, and then Shawn. There were already a few officers on the scene and Lassiter took charge of them all immediately.

"Okay!" He announced, getting their attention, "I need somebody to show my partner," Lassiter gestured to Juliet, "where the vehicle was parked. You!" He pointed to a scrawny-looking officer with glasses.

"Yes, sir!" The man quailed and led Juliet to a parking space on the other side of the lot, trembling the whole time.

"Where's the witness?" He called and this time Buzz McNab came forward. "McNab!" Lassiter shouted and the young officer flinched. "Where is he?"

"Over there, sir," McNab answered. "He's sitting on that bench." McNab pointed to the area right outside the Starbucks entrance and Lassiter marched right over.

"Come on, man!" Shawn didn't even need to look over at his best friend to know that he'd be right on his heels. "Lassie's obviously gonna get more than Jules will. We all know there won't be anything left behind."

"No, Shawn," Gus disagreed, still following him, "not everyone knows that. Juliet could still find something. Maybe the kidnapper spit on the ground before he took off, or maybe he cut himself on something and there will be traces of blood. You never know."

"Gus, when will you learn? I _always _know." Shawn was confident in his abilities, and his abilities told him that all they could get from here was information from the witness. And possibly a chocolate scone. Shawn thought he was in the mood for one of those. Even though he didn't really know what they were.

"Dude, what's a scone?" He asked as they neared Lassiter and the witness.

"You don't know? How can you not know?" Gus was actually shocked by this. "Everybody knows this, Shawn! It's common knowledge!"

"Gus! Just tell me what it is!" Shawn exclaimed in exasperation, and by this point they were right next to Lassie and the witness.

"Shut up, Spencer. I'm in the middle of something." Lassiter didn't even look at them when he spoke. "Go on, Mr. Niture."

As the witness talked to Lassiter, Shawn beckoned Gus closer and whispered, "Mr. _Niture_? What kind of name is that? It's gotta be fake."

"But what would this guy need a fake name for?" Gus asked cluelessly.

"Because he's involved!" Shawn whisper-shouted, then, a little less sure, "Somehow..."

"You have nothing to prove that!" Gus whisper-shouted back, "You can't accuse him of being involved with no evidence! Maybe his parents were hippies who misspelled "nature" when they changed their last name."

"You know I can hear every word your saying, right?" Lassiter stood facing them, the witness was gone now.

"Lassie, what was the witness's first name?" Shawn asked coolly.

"Fur. Why?" Lassiter asked, oblivious to what was right under his nose, and Gus groaned.

"Come on, Carlytown, I know you can put it together." Shawn encouraged, "Think. Fur. Niture."

Lassiter whispered it to himself and a sudden rage lit his eyes, "Furniture! Dammit! How could I have missed that?"

Shawn opened his mouth to reply, but Gus cut him off, "It's a rhetorical question, Shawn. He doesn't really want you to answer it."

"McNab!" Lassiter shouted and the officer came running, "Where's that witness?"

"Uh, you were done with him, so we, uh," Buzz stammered, "we let him go. Why? What's going on?"

"We are not entirely sure," Shawn stepped in, "but we think he was involved somehow."

"No, we don't, Shawn!" Gus said, "We have no proof!"

"Dude! He gave us a fake name! It's so obvious!"

"No it's not! We-" Gus was cut short by Lassiter yelling, "O'Hara!"

Lassiter turned back to McNab as Juliet approached. "Did we get his license plate? Vehicle description?"

"Whose plate and car description?" Juliet asked as McNab winced and said, "No."

"Dammit!" Lassiter threw his pocket notebook on the ground. "We've got nothing! We don't even know if the tip was real! It was probably just to throw us off!"

During the head detective's outburst Shawn and Gus had been filling Juliet in on the details. Her youthful face drained of hope, but then, as if remembering something, she dug something out of her pocket. It was a piece of paper inside an evidence baggie.

"Carlton," Juliet said to get his attention, and, even though fury still radiated from his eyes he focused on her. "We do have something. I found this," She gave him the baggie, which he started to inspect. "It's a sticky note. It has something written on it, but it's written in some sort of code. It could be something."

He looked up from the evidence, "It's all we've got."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

It was dark by the time Shawn and Gus were ordered to go home while the cops ran tests for DNA and fingerprints. They said it would be a while before they got the results, and if Shawn wasn't picking up any "psychic vibrations" he might as well leave. So the two best friends hopped into Gus's Echo and drove to the Psych office so Shawn could pick up his motorcycle.

"Thanks for giving me a ride, buddy. I'll see you when the cops have a lead." Shawn said.

"See you later, Shawn." Was all Gus said before he drove off.

While Shawn went inside to grab his helmet he pondered the case. _What could Mr. Furniture have to do with Arlene Simmons? I have no idea, _he admitted to himself, _but he's involved somehow._

Shawn was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't even noticed the figure crouched in a dark corner of the office. Until it was too late. The man lunged and tackled Shawn from behind. He grunted as they fell to the floor and tried to push the person off, but he stopped when he noticed what was in the man's hand.

It was a gun. Not to mention it was pointed right at his head.

"Whoa!" Shawn put his hands up, "How about you put that gun down and tell me what I did to piss you off."

"Shut up, psychic!" The man barked, and it seemed like his voice was familiar, "I'm gonna get off you, but when I do that I want you to stand up and cuff yourself, or else I'll shoot you." He held out a pair of handcuffs.

"Okay, okay," The man got off of him and yanked Shawn to his feet, and once they were both standing he held out the cuffs to Shawn. Shawn took them. He didn't have another choice. Unless he wanted to get shot.

Shawn started to put the cuffs on but the man spoke, "Behind your back!"

Shawn obliged and proceeded to cuff himself. After he did that, the man spun him around and put the gun to the back of his head. "Walk." He commanded. So Shawn walked.

Eventually they were out the door and standing next to the man's car. Shawn knew what was coming, but he hoped to God that it wouldn't happen. His hopes were lost when the man popped open the trunk and said, "Get in." Again, Shawn had to oblige.

The next thing Shawn knew, the man had slammed the trunk door shut. Shawn heard a car door open and slam, and before he knew it he was kidnapped and being driven off to parts unknown by some guy.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N (6/21/11): Still going through everything and revising it late into the night... *yawns* I'm so tired but it has to be done._**

**_To recap: Shawn no longer has duct tape over his mouth... Yeah._**

**_PS: Thanks to my 70th reviewer for pointing out the inconsistencies in this story! I never would've done this otherwise._**

**_PPS: If there is some weird formatting error, then I'm sorry, but I really don't feel like addressing it right now._**

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Juliet sat at her desk and stared at the computer before her, never blinking. Kidnappings always hit her harder than they did her more-experienced partner. People thought it was because she was so young, that, with time, she'd toughen up a little. Juliet knew that wasn't the case. It was just in her empathetic nature, but that didn't mean she was any less of a cop.

"We got something!" McNab announced, startling Juliet out of her thoughts, and the whole room started buzzing. Juliet got up and started towards the young officer.

"We don't have all day, McNab! What is it?" Lassiter demanded, following Juliet to where McNab stood by his computer.

"Sorry, sir." Buzz apologized. "The fingerprint we found on the note Detective O'Hara picked up matched this guy's prints."

Lassiter looked at the screen where the picture of a middle-aged brown-haired man was posted just above his name and information. "Alexander Carmichael," He said to himself before addressing the entire room, "All right, everybody! I wanna know who this guy really is and what he was doing in that parking lot!"

"Do you think he did it?" Juliet asked her partner.

"Just look at him." Lassiter was. He was eyeing the photo critically, sizing him up. "He's got criminal written all over his smug face."

Juliet didn't intend to jump to conclusions, but Alexander Carmichael _did _look smug. She was about to agree with Lassiter on that point when McNab spoke.

"Ah, sir?" The officer looked a little uncomfortable, like he was dreading something. "He's an ex-cop."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Gus was driving home when his cell phone, which was sitting in the passenger seat now that Shawn was gone, started ringing. Without taking his eyes off the road Gus reached over and answered it, "Hello?"

"Gus?" It was Juliet. "We found something."

Gus felt both excitement and a little anxiety surge through him. No matter how excited he got, Gus was still a little scared of what he and Shawn did. "What is it?" He asked.

"A fingerprint." She explained, "It matched one Alexander Carmichael."

Gus could tell she was holding something back. "What else?"

"He was a cop." Juliet said.

"Oh." Was all he said. He didn't quite understand why a cop would be involved in this. Maybe Jules and Lassie did though.

"We'll be right over, but I have to go get Shawn first." Gus said as he waited for the appropriate time to turn around. "He's probably still at Psych anyway. There's no way he found his helmet _and _his keys yet."

"Did he lose them?" Juliet asked, appreciating the change to a lighter topic.

"No." Gus answered, "His dad hid them, but that's a good guess."

"Why would-" Juliet began, but was cut off by someone yelling; it was probably Lassiter. "I gotta go." Was all she said before hanging up.

Gus glanced down at his phone quickly and hit the speed dial specifically for Shawn. He turned the phone on speakerphone and waited as it rang. After six rings it went to voicemail. Gus hung up before the beep, not wanting to leave a message. Shawn had probably lost his phone in the mess that was the Psych office. It wouldn't be the first time.

Gus continued on his way in silence. Shawn didn't have another phone and Gus seriously doubted he'd be with Henry, which was the only other way to reach him if he didn't have his phone. Mostly because, if he didn't find his keys, he couldn't get there.

Little did Gus know the real reason Shawn wasn't picking up.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Henry sat on the purple recliner in his living room and waited. Shawn had promised, only after Gus's insistence that it was a good idea, to come over and have dinner. Things had been going well between them. They could actually go three hours now without arguing. For them, that was a big accomplishment.

Henry had been waiting for an hour now. He should've expected Shawn to bail on him, but it still hurt. The more he thought about it the more likely it seemed, but he still decided to call his son. Henry picked up the phone and dialed Shawn's cell phone, and then he waited, eventually it went to voicemail. Henry hung up and tried again, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Shawn had only forgotten their plans and missed his call by accident.

It just went to voicemail again. Now Henry was getting worried. He tried to assure himself that, even when Shawn still lived in his house, he wouldn't return Henry's calls. It didn't help. Henry couldn't shake the lingering feeling that something was wrong.

This time when he picked up the phone, he dialed the police department.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Henry," Chief Vick said into the phone, "I hired Mr. Guster and your son on a case. They're on their way here now." She paused for a moment as Henry spoke. "No, Henry I-," Just then Gus walked in looking slightly confused.

"Here they are now." She told Henry before hanging up.

Vick walked out of her office to greet the consultants but ended up asking, "Where's Spencer?" She couldn't help it. Henry and his conspiracy had gotten to her.

"I thought he might be here." Gus answered.

"Who might be here?" Juliet walked over to join them, Lassiter just behind her.

"Shawn." Gus said as Vick said, "Mr. Spencer."

"What about him?" Lassiter asked, catching the tail of the conversation.

"We already covered that part." Vick said as Gus said, "He's missing." Vick looked him and glared. If they were going to have any sort of conversation he would have to stop talking over her.

"Missing?" Juliet asked, "He wasn't at the office? I thought you said you dropped him off there."

"I did." Gus said, "But when I got back no one was there."

Vick mulled over the pros and cons of telling them about her conversation with the elder Spencer. _Pro: They could come to some sort of conclusion regarding this matter. Con: They take things too far because nothing has actually happened. _Vick made her decision by saying, "I was just talking with Henry. He had similar concerns."

"Dinner!" Gus said. "He was supposed to have dinner with his father tonight. He must have dropped his phone and is probably on his way there." The others, except Lassiter, looked at him doubtfully. "It wouldn't be the first time he lost his phone."

"Guster's probably right." Lassiter broke the worried silence. "We've got more important things to do than talk on and on about nothing."

"I don't know, Carlton." They could all hear the concern that was evident in Juliet's voice. "It just doesn't feel right."

"No, detective." Vick said to Juliet. "Lassiter _is _right. We have a kidnapping to investigate."

"Yeah. It's not like this is the first time Shawn's disappeared without telling anyone." Gus agreed, but it sounded like he was still trying to convince himself.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

It was dark in the trunk of the car Shawn was trapped in. Too dark. Shawn was starting to feel claustrophobic, it was almost like the dark was trying to suffocate him. Shawn struggled uselessly against the cuffs to no avail.

He was in trouble and there was no getting out of it now.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Ten minutes after her conversation with the others Vick's office phone started ringing and before she picked up she knew who it was. "Vick." She answered.

"He's still not here, Karen." Henry sounded even more worried now than he had been before. "He should have been here by now."

This time, Vick had to agree with him. "You're right." She sighed, "I'll let the others know." Then she hung up. She knew she'd be seeing Henry soon enough, and if he had anything else to say he would do it then. Vick knew she could expect enough yelling to fill a football stadium. She hoped she still had some ibuprofen left in her desk drawer.

She walked out of her office and saw her detectives looking over the evidence and Gus standing beside them. He didn't look like he was paying much attention. He looked troubled. Vick knew her announcement would only make it worse.

"Mr. Guster, detectives," she greeted them, "I'm afraid I have some...troubling information."

Juliet and Lassiter looked up, alert, but Gus looked as if he hadn't heard her. A few seconds later he realized that everyone was waiting for him to pay attention.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"Mr. Spencer never showed up at his father's house." Vick definitely had their attention now. "I want to know where he is."

"But we already have a case." Lassiter said, "A kidnapping! Doesn't that-," Vick cut him short.

"Multitask, Detective," She said and looked at them all, "this could be the same thing."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

The car came to a sudden stop, which made Shawn crash into the back of the trunk with a hard thud. His left shoulder caught most of the impact and pain surged through it.

_Great, _he thought, _a dislocated shoulder is _really _gonna help me now. _The trunk was popped open and he saw the face of his attacker. All he could tell was that it was a brown haired man because he wore a really creepy mask over his face, and since he already knew it was a man that didn't matter.

He was yanked roughly out of the trunk and ended up lying on some stretch of road. "Get up!" The guy said harshly. Shawn staggered to his feet and noticed that the gun was still present in the guy's hand, and that it was _still _being pointed at him.

"Come on." The man grabbed Shawn's left arm, causing pain to shoot through him again.

They walked for what seemed like an eternity for Shawn before they stopped in front of a barn that just seemed to pop out of nowhere. The guy spun Shawn around to face him. "Take two steps back." He instructed.

"Hey, man," Shawn said, "why don't we just-," Shawn was cut short when the man said. "Now."

Shawn glanced behind him and noticed for the first time the endless opaque hole in the ground. It was too dark to see how far down it went, but that wasn't a good sign. That meant it was really, _really _deep.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Shawn said, which annoyed Bad Guy (This was Shawn's new name for him. He thought it was much better than 'the man') even further.

"Fine. If you won't do this willingly," Bad Guy aimed his gun and Shawn heard that clicking sound that he'd heard too many times before, "I'll just have to force you."

Bad Guy fired his gun and Shawn cried out when he felt a white-hot pain in his right leg. He stumbled backward a little, which turned out to be a _huge_ mistake. He was falling down the hole into oblivion before his mind even registered what had happened.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hey there! I decided to toss you guys a bone and start with Shawns POV first. It's short, but it's supposed to be that way.**_

**_Shout Out: I wanted to thank all the people who reviewed this story and even those that didn't, but please, REVIEW! I like, live off of reviews. And I know there are a lot more people who read this than those that review. If you want me to continue to update quickly than you'd better start REVIEWING!_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I really hate these things. It's so dumb. If I DID own Psych then this is probably what every episode would look like and the show would be canceled. Which would lead us Psych-os to start a petition to bring it back. Right? I thought so._**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Shawn screamed in agony as he hit the bottom of the hole and his right leg took the brunt of the impact. He screamed again when it crumpled underneath him and he landed on his right side, hard. Shawn could feel shards of glass and other things embed themselves in his back and side. He lay there, gasping in pain, and watched as the night sky was covered by something. Bad Guy was covering the hole.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Lassiter opened his mouth to start giving orders. They had _two _cases now, and they were a man down. But before he could get a word out a frantic woman came running into the station with a small redheaded girl trailing behind her.

"I just saw the news!" She said to no one in particular, "I swear I didn't kidnap her! I'm the nanny! I was just watching her while her mother was at a party!"

"Whoa, calm down." Lassiter walked towards the woman, "Kidnap who?"

"Her! Lena!" The woman pointed to the little girl who was now sucking her thumb.

_It can't be this easy, _Lassiter thought, _It just can't be. _He looked the woman in the eye and said, "Do you mean Arlene Simmons?"

"Yes!" The woman exclaimed, "I was only watching her, and then I saw the news. I didn't do anything, sir. I swear!" Now the whole room was buzzing with the news. Everyone thought the same thing: _Could it be this easy?_

"What's your name, miss?" Lassiter asked.

"Ramona. Ramona Clarke." She said, "I'm the nanny."

"Somebody check her out!" Lassiter shouted and McNab was typing away at his computer instantly.

"She's telling the truth, sir," McNab reported a moment later. "She really is the nanny."

O'Hara butted in a moment later, "Then why did the mother report her missing?"

"Let's find out." And with that Lassiter headed out with his partner and Gus not far behind.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

"Henry," Vick began, "I know your worried, but-," She didn't get a chance to finish due to the enraged shouting that cut her off.

"Shut it, Karen," Henry snarled, "All I want to know is _where the hell my son is!_"

"So do I," Vick decided to ignore the elder Spencer's outbursts. He was only concerned for his son, after all. And Vick knew that he masked his worry with anger, with anything but his true emotions.

"Then why are we just sitting here?" Henry demanded, "We should be out looking for him!"

"I have Detective Lassiter and O'Hara on it," Vick said, "Mr. Guster is, uh, assisting them." Gus hadn't been doing much assisting since Vick had mad Shawn's disappearance an official case. He hadn't really been doing much of anything. Vick thought he was still in a state of shock

Henry slumped down into Vick's special chair she'd gotten when she was pregnant and put his head in his hands. "Ah, Henry," she tried to get his attention, but his mind was elsewhere for now. Karen walked over and stood beside him and, after a little hesitation, put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

An hour later Casey Simmons, Arlene's mother, arrived at the police station where the detectives had told her to be half an hour ago. When they drove out to her mansion and found no one there they went back to the station and got her cell phone number from the nanny, who'd calmed down a lot since she first arrived. Ms. Simmons had still been on her way home when they called. She said the yacht party had run a little late. The detectives found it suspicious that the mother didn't seem very broken up about the 'abduction' of her little girl. They had decided not to mention it to her until she arrived.

"Lena!" Casey exclaimed, running to her daughter with outstretched arms. "I've been so, so worried!" She kissed her daughter on the forehead before looking up at the three people before her. "How did you find her?"

"We didn't." Lassiter said bluntly, "The nanny brought her in."

Casey stood and when she spotted the nanny sitting at O'Hara's desk she marched toward her saying, "You _bitch_! I trusted you! I trusted you with my little girl and then you _kidnap _her!" Casey had reached Ramona now and punctuated the end of the sentence with a hard slap across the face.

"_Whoa_!" Lassiter pulled the mother back, "Take it easy!"

"Ma'am," Juliet said as Lassiter restrained Casey, who didn't seem to be all that angry with the nanny, but seemed to be more upset about breaking a nail. "We know your daughter wasn't really kidnapped." _That _caught the mother's attention.

"Wha-what are you talking about?" Casey sputtered.

"The more important thing is what were _you _talking about when you reported your daughter missing?" Lassiter countered.

Casey's shoulder's slumped in defeat, she knew she'd been caught and there was no getting out of it now. She sat down in the nearest chair, which happened to be Lassiter's, and began her story, "A man came to me at the party. He said that if I didn't say Lena was abducted that he'd have her killed."

"And you believed him?" Lassiter asked, disbelief lacing his voice.

"He showed me a picture of her." Casey told them. She looked up at the detective with wide eyes, "I just wanted to protect my daughter. I don't know why he asked me what he did. You have to believe me," She pleaded.

"We do," Gus spoke up for the first time before either of the detectives could get a word in. They stared at him and Lassiter brought him aside.

"You don't really buy this shit, do you?" Lassiter went on before Gus could open his mouth. "She's obviously lying!"

"Look at her, Lassiter," Gus insisted. "When she came in it was obvious that her concern was real! Show her the picture of Alexander Carmichael. I bet she'll ID him as the man who threatened her daughter."

"Fine." Lassiter said, "Just to prove I'm right."

The two made their way over to where Juliet was waiting with Casey, her daughter, and the nanny. Lassiter picked a paper off of his desk, "Is this the man who approached you at the party?" He asked.

Casey gasped and hugged her daughter tighter, "Y-yes! How did you know?"

Just then they were interrupted when the Chief walked out of her office with Henry Spencer in tow. She glanced at them curiously and walked over and Henry followed her. She stopped next to Lassiter and said, "What's going on, Detective?"

"Ms. Simmons just identified the man who threatened her daughter's life as Alexander Carmichael," Lassiter answered as he held up the picture for Vick to see. "He definitely wasn't in that parking lot by accident."

They heard an intake of breath and looked to where the sound had come from. Henry's mouth was hanging slightly open and when he saw that everyone was staring he asked, "You don't remember?"

"Remember what, Mr. Spencer?" Juliet asked in return.

"This is the guy that you two," He gestured to Juliet and Lassiter, "arrested last month. The triple-murderer? That ring a bell?"

Vick shook her head, disappointed in herself for not seeing it sooner, and Lassiter slammed his hands down on his desk, causing everyone to jump. "Dammit! I should've seen it!"

"Wait, what?" Juliet asked, "I remember the case, but I don't see how it ties in with everything that's happened."

"He's been awaiting trial for weeks now," Vick said, and Lassiter finished it with, "And Spencer's the one who caught him."

They all looked at eachother, finally beginning to understand why the things that happened earlier that day happened. Casey Simmons broke the silence by asking, "Wait, who's Spencer?"

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Later, after the Simmons family and their nanny had been ushered out of the station, the group, including Henry and Vick, began going over the case. They all agreed that the 'kidnapping' of Arlene Simmons had been a distraction for something else. They just had to put all the pieces together.

"Okay," Vick started, "We know that the Simmons kidnapping was a distraction orchestrated by Carmichael, but what for?"

"That's obvious!" Henry exclaimed, "His plan was to kidnap my son!"

"It makes sense," Juliet said, "Since Shawn was the one who exposed him, Carmichael would have a vendetta against _him _instead of, oh, let's say, Lassiter."

"And if he was in the parking lot he would've had the opportunity to tail us back to the police station, and then follow Guster and Spencer the rest of the way." Lassiter contributed.

"If Carmichael took Shawn after I left him at the office," Gus said, "then what's he planning on doing with him?"

They all fell silent. There were a lot of possibilities that could answer that question. The one that first came to mind was that Carmichael would kill Shawn and disappear, but there was a chance that he'd keep him alive. They all hoped it was the latter.

"Maybe the note O'Hara found will tell us something," Vick said.

Juliet quickly walked over to her desk and plucked something off of it before returning to the group. She held it out for all of them to see, "But it's in code, Chief," she said, and they all looked at the rune-like symbols on the paper, as if by staring at it long enough they could figure out what it meant.

"Hey, I recognize that!" Buzz, who'd been eavesdropping for some time now, said and the others turned their stare to him. Buzz shifted nervously, the weight of their stares settling in. "My nephew, he was really in to some book called 'Dragonology'. He finally learned how to write 'the secret language of dragons' he called it. It looked just like that."

"McNab," Vick said, "can you read it?"

The rookie looked at the paper closely, "I-I think so." Everyone let out a collective breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. This could be the break they'd been waiting for.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Shawn groaned as he tried to bring himself into a sitting position. He hurt all over. The gunshot was bad enough, but add a who-knows-how-many-foot fall to the mix and you get pain. Horrible, unbearable pain. Shawn had known from the moment he hit the ground that his right leg was broken, but at least it hadn't been his left. He needed at least one leg to get out of here.

He finally got himself upright and he leaned against the wall of the hole. "If only I'd taken Gus up on that offer to skip this case and get pineapple smoothies instead," He said to himself. And he really did wish that he'd taken Gus up on that, but when the Chief had said it was a kidnapping he knew he couldn't just stand by. He'd just had to help.

And look where that had gotten him. He'd been kidnapped, shoved into a trunk, shot, and then fell into a hole. That was just _perfect_. Now, all he could do was wait. Wait, and hope the others found him in time. He had a feeling that this was only the beginning.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

_**Don't forget to REVIEW and let me know how I'm doing!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: Okay, so I've made adjustments to this chapter. I added the second half on. I didn't want to just add it as another chapter all together so I put it on this one._**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych but sometimes I wish I did. Okay, almost all the time...**_

_**Oh, and I advise you to make the window you're reading this in smaller so it looks better. You don't get the same effect when you can see the next three paragraphs.**_

**_6/21/11: This chapter has been edited_**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

**_Part One:_**

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Shawn leaned against the side of the hole breathing heavily. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded. "Prob'ly jus' the pain," he mumbled. Shawn turned his face upward, toward the stars that he couldn't see, "Dude," he said through gritted teeth, "why couldn't you have just lowered me gently into a hole full of pillows and stocked with fresh marshmallows and a mini-fridge?"

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Oh, come on, McNab! Aren't you done yet?" Lassiter asked for the millionth time.

The younger man didn't even look up from the note he was staring so intently at. He scribbled something down on a post-it and pushed his reading glasses back to their rightful place.

Juliet glanced at Carlton in what might have been annoyance, but it was too well concealed to tell. "Shh, Carlton, he has to get it right." This was true and it made the older detective shut his mouth. For now.

Henry was tapping his foot impatiently and was getting ready to say something when McNab suddenly burst out, "Aha!" The five people around him jumped and he quickly jotted something else on the post-it then he stood. He faced the apprehensive group surrounding him, but before he could get a word out someone's cell phone started ringing.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Shawn blinked groggily, he heard something. Buzzing? No that wasn't it. It was... voices. Someone was outside the hole! Shawn didn't think that it could be his kidnapper. All he thought was that it could be his savior.

"Hey!" He shouted and he noticed that his voice was hoarse and he was _really _thirsty. "There's an injured person down here! Hello-oo?"

The murmuring got louder and suddenly Shawn was starting to see little dots of lights. _Stars! _He was going to be rescued!

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

They all watched as Detective Lassiter spoke on the phone. Some of them were just irritated at the delay in the proceedings, others, namely Henry, were on the verge of a furious outburst.

"Yes mother," Lassiter said quickly and quietly into the phone and they all heard a shrill voice shouting from the other end. He listened for a moment before speaking again, "I'm really very busy right now, mother, I have to-" He was cut of by his mother's yelling again, "No I'm not married! I just got divorced, for justice's sake."

_For like, two years, now hang up the phone, Carlton!_ Juliet's inner voice shouted. She wanted to get on with this already. Every minute they wasted at the station was another minute they weren't looking for Shawn. Juliet was tempted to snatch her partner's phone and hang up on his mother, but she refrained from doing so.

Finally he hung up and right away he was back in super-cop mode. He turned back to McNab, who still held onto his post-it. "McNab!" He barked, "What're you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Just tell us what the damn thing says!"

"Yes, sir," Buzz said obediently, "I'm not sure if I got all the words right, because some letters are-"

"Just read it!" Everyone exclaimed at the same time, including the other officers and detectives who'd been eavesdropping.

"It says," The whole room was quiet and everyone listened eagerly, "'Eggs, bacon, soy-"

"You're saying it's a grocery list?" Gus asked in disbelief, the hope draining out of his eyes.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Damn," A voice at the top of the hole muttered, "He's still alive. Alex said he prob'ly landed on his head on the way down."

"Guess not," A feminine voice supplied, "What should we do?"

"Get rid of 'im," The other said simply and Shawn felt his heart stop. How many times could his life be threatened in one day? _Wait, _he thought, _how many times has it been threatened? Once? Twice? Eh, I don't remember exactly. _He was jolted back to reality when he heard the cocking of a gun.

_Oh, great, I hope they don't have night-vision goggles, _Shawn thought just as the woman asked, "You brought the one with the night-scope, right?"

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"No..." Juliet murmered. It couldn't be something as stupid as this. It had to be something more.

"What?" Lassiter asked, "If it was a shopping list why is it coded?" Juliet's hopes rose just a little. Lassiter had a good point.

"Detective..." Vick trailed off, she had absolutely no answer. She glanced over at Henry. He was standing stock-still in the same position he'd been in since McNab had started reading the note. His face was a bit paler though. Vick pitied him, she would hate to be where he was right now.

"Uh, guys?" Buzz tried to get their attention, but they were to deep in their own thoughts. Juliet and Lassiter were avidly discussing why the note was coded and if it held any significance, Gus was quietly breaking down, Vick was trying to assure a furious Henry that everything would turn out all right.

Buzz knew he had to take charge. He mustered up all the courage he could and shouted, "GUYS! WOULD YOU JUST STOP AND LISTEN? THERE'S MORE!"

Now _that _got the whole room's undivided attention. Juliet was looking at him with hopeful eyes, Lassiter was staring at him as if he'd grown another head, Gus finally stopped crying, and the Chief and Henry were just staring. McNab started to feel like they were all burning holes through his skin and shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Well then, Officer McNab," Vick said, "read it."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Aw, shit!" The man exclaimed, "I brought the wrong one!"

"Dammit, Bill!" The woman shouted, "Why do I even bother working with you?"

"Because you love me?" The man, Bill, asked hopefully. Suddenly Shawn heard a resounding _crack _and Bill swore, "_Shit!" _And Shawn knew that the woman must've slapped him, and hard.

"There's no way I could ever love a piece of filth like you," the woman said, clearly offended.

"Whatever," Bill grumbled, "But I've got the one with the night-scope in the car."

_Oh, crap, _Shawn thought, _I didn't even get a last word._

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"So," McNab started again, "It says: One: Grab Vic, two: Vic to dump site: Bill's place. Emergency site: 1933 Sycamore, three: R. return to PD, four: Second dump at Steve's Storage house number six, five: Flight to Mexico."

"It's a list," Lassiter stated.

"Thank you, Detective Dipstick," Henry said flatly, using the nickname Lassiter hated. "We really needed you to point out the obvious. Way to go."

Lassiter made a move toward Henry and Henry gave the universal 'bring it on' sign. Juliet grabbed Lassiter's arm before he could make another step though, and Vick whispered angrily into Henry's ear. The elder Spencer's anger soon deflated and he was back to being completely emotionless.

"What does it mean?" Gus asked. His insides were squirming, his friend was out there and now they had a clue. They could find him. They _would. _ Gus knew it with every bone in his body, just like he knew that they'd find him _alive. _There was simply no other option acceptable to Gus.

"Well," Lassiter thought for a moment, "That first thing on the list 'grab vic' probably means 'grab victim' which in this case would be Spencer."

"That's already been done," Juliet added, she was feeling like they were finally getting somewhere now, "So on to direction two. Where's 'Bill's place'?"

"I don't know," Lassiter thought for a moment. "McNab!" He shouted.

The young man flinched, the older detective had yelled right into his ear. "Yes, sir?"

Henry answered for the head detective, "Find out where 1933 Sycamore is."

Lassiter frowned at the older man but said nothing, instead he thought about the next thing on the list. "'R. return to PD..."

"Lena!" Gus exclaimed, "The nanny _returned _the kid to the _police department_! The nanny whose first name starts with R!"

"Somebody get a hold of that nanny!" Vick yelled to the nearby policemen and women in the room and they all scurried off to obey these orders, "And bring her in!" She looked at the remaining four people around her, "Looks like we've got a suspect."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Here it is! Chapter 6! I'm not sure what you guys will think of it (I hope you'll tell me) but I'm pretty proud of it. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and let me tell you! I did NOT expect some of the things I wrote! When I first started it I thought I knew exactly where it was going, but, boy was I wrong!**_

_**I hope you guys have as much fun reading this as I did writing it!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych. I think that covers it.**_

_**Oh, and the second half of chapter 5 is up and I just added it to the first half. So go back and read that NOW if you haven't.**_

_**6/21/11: This chapter has been edited.**_

_**ENJOY!**_

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Shawn wanted to scream. It was all becoming too much. He'd been sitting in this hole in tremendous pain for hours and the only people to find him were in league with his kidnapper. They were gone for the moment, they'd left a couple minutes ago to get the gun with the night-scope and hadn't returned yet. The fear Shawn was feeling threatened to choke him to death. And he thought that he was developing a fear of small, dark places.

Right then he heard something in the distance. Voices.

Bill and the woman would be back within minutes to kill him. Shawn prayed to God that Bill had forgotten to load the gun, and he hoped that the others were close to finding him. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.

The voices got closer and Shawn could hear them talking now. Bill was saying that the cops had no idea what was going on. That they had plenty of time.

"No, Bill, we don't!" The woman shouted, to Shawn it seemed like she was always angry, always yelling. It was starting to get on his nerves.

"Why wouldn't we? Alex 'as the police chasin' their own tails. At least, that's what 'e said." Bill said.

"Alexander doesn't have as much time as he thinks! The police are going to be more determined than usual with a man suspected of a triple murder on the loose!" The woman exclaimed.

_Alexander. Triple murder. _The words brought back memories Shawn had long ago forgotten about. He remembered a gruesome crime scene. A family slaughtered in their sleep. And he remembered the police exposing one of their own as the one who did it.

_No, _a voice in Shawn's head that sounded a lot like his father piped up, You _exposed him. _You _were the one that led the police to him._

"Ah, crap," Shawn whispered through the pain still humming through his body. Now he knew who his kidnapper was. And why he was kidnapped in the first place.

_I told you this psychic business would come back to bite you in the ass, _his dad's voice said again.

"Shut up, Dad," He muttered.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Ah, sir?" McNab called to the Head Detective.

"What?" Lassiter snapped.

"I found out what's at 1933 Sycamore," McNab said nervously.

"Well, what is it?" Lassiter asked and he stared at the younger officer expectantly, "Come on, McNab, I've got an important case to solve. I don't have all day!"

"I know, sir," McNab said, "It's just that the address is in a residential area. It belongs to, ah, well, it belongs to-"

"Who?" Lassiter asked impatiently. Every minute he spent talking to this babbling rookie was another minute that their chances of finding Spencer alive went down. He could be dying right now while they sat here waiting for this idiot to get to the point. Lassiter's hands clenched into fists at the thought of what could be happening, but he forced himself to relax.

"The house belongs to Ramona Clarke, the Simmons's nanny," McNab said.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Do you hear that?" The woman bent on killing Shawn asked abruptly.

"'Ear what?" Bill asked.

"Ssh! I heard a voice! It came from down there!" Angry Woman said, "He really is alive! I didn't really think he could survive the fall!"

"Then why'd ya tell me to shoot 'im?" Bill asked.

"Just to be sure," Angry Woman answered. "Now, do you have everything you need?"

"Yup." Bill said, "Now all I gotta do is shoot 'im dead."

_Oh, no,_ Shawn thought, _here it comes._

_You really should've been more vigilant, _Henry's voice said in his head.

_Shut up, Dad! _Shawn thought, _Get out of my head! Jeez, this must be a symptom of traumatic events._

_If you'd been more vigilant like I taught you to be you would've seen him crouched in a corner back at the office, _his dad's voice went on ignoring him, _You could've realized who he was sooner and let the police know. Hey where's your-_

"Shut _up_!" Shawn shouted, "Why can't you just go away?" A moment after he said it he realized what he'd done. He'd just let the two people about to kill him know that he was alive for sure. They probably thought he was talking to them, and that probably just made them angry.

"Ex_cuse _me?" Angry Woman asked in disbelief.

"Oh, hey guys," Shawn called up to his soon-to-be-killers. "I didn't see you up there." And he didn't. He couldn't see them at all.

"You wan' me ta shoot 'im now, Mona?" Bill asked.

"Yes, I think-" She was cut off when her cell phone (Shawn assumed it was hers) started ringing.

Shawn heard Bill cock his gun so he closed his eyes and waited. "All righty then," Bill said. "Ah! There ya are! Not in too good a shape are ya, boy?" Bill asked laughing. "Won't matter for much longer."

"Wait!" Mona commanded, and Shawn opened his eyes even though he couldn't see them. Was she having a sudden change of heart?

"That was Alex," Mona said sounding nervous, "He said that his sources told him they're going to question me. I have to go."

"S'all right, Mona," Bill said, "I got things covered here."

"No," She said, and Shawn let himself begin to feel just the tiniest amount of relief over the pain. Maybe they wouldn't kill him after all.

"Switch to Plan B," Mona instructed, "You do know what Plan B is, right?"

"Yeah," Bill sighed, it was almost like he was disappointed he didn't get to shoot Shawn.

"Good," Mona's voice had gotten fainter, like she was walking away. "Don't forget to make it look really horrible. Blood on the walls always works."

_What have you gotten yourself into now, Shawn? _Shawn's father's voice asked.

"Oh, come _on_!" Shawn exclaimed, "Why can't I get rid of you?"

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Ramona Clarke drove her car down the quiet country road on the outskirts of the city. The police had called her in for questioning. They didn't say why, but Ramona already knew. They knew she was in on the plan, but they didn't know that she knew they knew.

They also didn't know that she wouldn't tell them shit about their precious psychic detective.

Not until it was too late, anyways.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Lassiter stared at the woman sitting across from him intently. He'd been doing this for the past two minutes. In average interrogations this technique worked pretty well, the suspect would crack about forty seconds into it, but this wasn't an average interrogation, and Ramona Clarke had only fidgeted twice.

"What do you know about Alexander Carmichael?" Lassiter asked emotionlessly. He knew the others were watching on the other side of the glass. It made him a little more nervous than he wanted to admit, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. A little pressure was good for getting things done. But he couldn't let them know how much he wanted to strangle the prissy bitch in front of him.

It had been a whole three minutes and she hadn't said a single word. Not one. And the act was getting a little old. She still hadn't answered his last question and Carlton decided it was time for a new tactic.

Lassiter slammed his hands down on the table and was rewarded when Ramona flinched. "All right, Ms. Clarke," He said in bad cop mode, "cut the shit." She looked at him, offended. She clearly wasn't used to being talked to this way. "I know you're in on this. What's your part in this?"

"Isn't it your job to find out, Detective?" She asked coldly, "Or are you too close to the case to get any real police work done?"

"Where's Spencer?" He snarled.

"Who?" Ramona asked innocently.

Lassiter was about to ask another question when his partner stepped into the interrogation room. She beckoned Lassiter over.

He walked over to her, a questioning look on his face, and she ushered him out of the room. In the observation room he noticed the Chief, Henry, and Gus watching Ramona through the glass. Henry and Gus were glaring, as if they wanted to get their hands around her throat (They all did) and Vick was examining her.

He turned back to Juliet, "What is it? Why'd you pull me out?"

"We dug up some history on her," She nodded to Ramona, "And we found her connection to the case."

Lassiter leaned in eagerly, finally they had some insight on this cryptic woman. Juliet began to relay the information she'd gleaned, "Her married name is Clarke, but her maiden name is Carmichael. She's Alexander's sister."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Okay, boy," Bill called down to Shawn, and Shawn hated to admit it, but he sounded like he wasn't trying to kill him. Like they were friends. Shawn tasted bile in his mouth after he thought that. Him and Bill friends? Not a friend he wanted to make.

"When the rope comes down, I want ya to put your legs through the loop in it 'n sit in it like a swing. Can ya do that? Or are you too stupid?" Bill laughed at his lame insult.

"I can do it," Shawn replied after a moments hesitation.

"Alrighty then," Bill said.

After a minute or two Shawn heard a thump and he knew it was the rope. He slid his hands along the bottom of the hole until he came across said rope. He managed to do what Bill had instructed even though it sent a twinge through his left shoulder.

"Ya got it?" Bill asked.

"Yes," Shawn answered quickly. Talking made the pain worse for some reason. Soon Shawn started to feel a pull on the rope. Then he was off the ground.

He was being rescued from the hole, but this ordeal wasn't over. Shawn knew that even though he was saved from dying in the hole he still might die at the hands of Bill.

_If only you'd let me keep talking earlier, _Henry's voice said mournfully, _then maybe I wouldn't have to spend all that money on my only son's funeral._

Shawn groaned, he just couldn't get rid of his father. Not even when he was kidnapped and Henry was only in his head. Then he remembered what the voice said earlier.

_Now you're catching on, Shawn. _Henry's voice said, _I was going to ask where your cell phone was, but even if you have it you can't use it in front of this guy._

Shawn's cell phone was in his back pocket. It had been the whole time. He'd just forgotten about it, and now it was too late. He could see the silhouette of Bill's head and shoulders now. It looked like he was going to have to wait to call for help.

"Well, boy, I don't get to shoot ya," Bill said as he hauled Shawn up, "But yer still gonna die. It'll just be more painful."

If he ever got the chance to call.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I didn't update sooner like I promised I would, but school started up again and I just haven't found enough spare time. I was going to post yesterday, but the internet connection suddenly went berserk. The connection is erratic at best. Future postings are going to be stretched out a little more guys, but I'll always post at some point. I'm not going to abandon any of my stories.**_

_**Okay, so here it is. Chapter 7. I really hope you guys like it. Personally, I think I could've done a little better, but I'm still pretty proud of it.**_

_**6/22/11: This chapter has been edited. Recap: Shawn's mouth is not duct-taped, he is still cuffed, and managed to sit in the loop Bill made in the rope like a swing. Let's chalk that last one up to Shawn just being very talented ;)**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych or it's characters. And I don't own Apple's iPhone. Wish I had one though...**_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Shawn gritted his teeth against the pain. It was threatening to overcome him with every step Bill was forcing him to take. Whenever he stopped moving to take the weight off his right leg Bill shoved at him, forcing him to keep moving. Shawn looked up to the sky in a silent plea for mercy and saw that it was beginning to brighten. It wasn't pitch black anymore.

_Has it really been that long? _Shawn thought, _Wow. At least I know that they're looking for me..._

"Come on, boy!" Bill shoved Shawn again, startling him out of his thoughts as he stumbled forward. He managed to regain his balance and keep most of the weight off his right side without the use of his arms, which were both still cuffed behind his back.

"Look, Bill, buddy," Shawn said, "why don't we just calmly discuss the situation? Without all the pushing? How does that- Ugh!" Shawn grunted as he was shoved _again. _

"Jeez," Shawn mumbled, "I'm going. I'm going..." _Going where? _He couldn't help but think.

A big rusted van was coming into view now and Shawn swallowed nervously. He'd been walking as slow as he could in hopes that some good, law-abiding citizen just might happen to cross their path and call the cops. It didn't look like that was happening anytime soon.

Shawn thought of his cell phone in his pocket that had remained undiscovered by Bill. He wished he'd thought of it earlier, and he hoped it wasn't broken or dead. He was going to need it.

Thinking of his phone brought back the conversation in his head with his dad. He knew it sounded crazy but he just couldn't get rid of the old man. Not even in his own head.

_Am I going crazy already? _He wondered, _I thought I'd have to endure another day of this for insanity to set in..._

_Shawn you've always been crazy, _His father's unwelcome voice stated, _Just think back to all the times you approached an armed suspect unarmed or without backup. It makes you seem pretty crazy._

Memories and moments flashed before his eyes. Garth Longmore with a gun pointed at Shawn's chest was foremost in his mind, but other times were there as well. Ashley Bamford on that oil rig pointing _another_ gun at Shawn as he attempted to talk her out of shooting him. And the time he tried to keep someone from killing McNab, and putting himself in the line of fire in the process. And then there was that awful time he got in the same car as the Yin Yang killer. There were so many other moments similar to these ones that Shawn couldn't think about them all at once, and he wasn't even counting the times he put Gus or someone else in danger. He hated when that happened so he rarely thought about them, but Henry, even while a figment of Shawn's overactive imagination, seemed to take pleasure in telling Shawn what he did wrong and what he could've done better.

_You should've listened to me, Shawn, _Henry's increasingly annoying voice said, _You know I'm right. How could you not remember your cell phone?_

Before Shawn could think of a reply to tell Imaginary Henry he noticed that he now stood in front of the van. It was one of those vans where the entire trunk area was windowless. Shawn watched nervously as Bill opened the back doors, and then watched as he came towards him. Shawn's instincts were telling him to run, but he knew he wouldn't make it far in his condition. So he let bill grab him by his left arm even though it sent white-hot pain surging through it.

Surprisingly Bill was strong enough to lift Shawn up and toss him into the back of the van like a sack of potatoes, causing Shawn to hit his head on the floor of the car. Shawn groaned in pain. He didn't know how much more of this his body could take, or how long his leg could go without medical attention.

"C'mon, guys," Shawn whispered as Bill slammed the doors shut, "You gotta find me."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Sister?" Lassiter repeated and Juliet nodded in confirmation. The other three were still staring at the nanny in the other room, but Lassiter knew they heard it too.

"Well now we've got something," He said before heading back into the room again. And this time when he stared her down he had a smug look on his face that Ramona couldn't seem to decipher. Lassiter saw that it was making her nervous and he smiled. She was finally going to crack.

Ramona fidgeted a little in her seat and wondered what the detective knew. He couldn't know what she and Alex had planned, so what was it?

Lassiter moved himself so he towered directly over where she sat before he spoke. And when he did it was in the quiet yet chilling voice that he'd used in many of his toughest interrogations. It was sure to break her.

"So," Lassiter said, "Ramona _Carmichael_, is it?" The nanny's blue eyes widened nervously and Lassiter moved to look her straight in the eye.

Ramona mustered all the defiance she could manage and stared back at him, "Yes, and I'm not telling you shit." Then she grinned, "It's too late anyway."

Behind the glass in the observation room four faces visibly paled, and in front of it another became angry. A cold and furious determination filled the head detective's eyes and he brought his face uncomfortably close to Ramona's.

"What the hell does that mean?" Lassiter growled.

Ramona smirked but made no motion to explain. She couldn't help but let a chuckle escape when Lassiter slammed his fist down on the table right in front of her. They actually thought she would betray her brother for some idiot she didn't even know. They were dead wrong. Just like the psychic was.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Shawn heard a car door slam shut and the car start up. He was immediately bounced around to no end, the road was unbelievably rough. He struggled to get his cell phone out of his pocket. He was glad it was in an easy spot to reach, but he wasn't glad that it was behind him.

His fingers caught hold of the cell phone and he started to pull it out, but was thrown to the side as the van turned a sharp left. Shawn winced as pain shot through his entire body and shards of glass were embedded further into his side.

When the pain became a little bit more bearable Shawn tried again, but his fingers were trembling so badly it made it difficult to hold on to anything.

_Must be the blood loss, _He thought. _I guess I didn't realize how much I lost... Wait, how much _did _I lose? _Shawn knew he'd lost enough that he had to see a doctor as soon as possible, but Shawn was starting to think he wouldn't get the chance.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Henry, Gus, Juliet, and Lassiter stood in the Chief's office as she sat behind her desk. Lassiter had questioned the nanny, who they were keeping in the station as long as possible, for another frustrating few minutes before Vick called him out. They'd just gotten here and were already starting to feel hopeless.

"Did she mean Shawn is..." Gus trailed off, not needing to complete the sentence. He could see in the others' eyes that they were thinking the same thing. Gus couldn't believe it though. This was _Shawn _they were talking about, and Gus knew Shawn wouldn't give up so soon.

_But it's been hours, _Gus thought, _and we haven't made any progress. What if... _Gus couldn't let himself finish the thought. He started pacing, thinking hard while he did it. Had he seen anything strange when he dropped Shawn off at the office? The more Gus thought about it the more he thought that he'd seen something. But what was it? If only he could remember things as clearly as Shawn could...

"You can't think that way, Gus," Juliet pleaded, she didn't want to believe it anymore than he did. "We'll find him," she said, and then, almost to herself, "We're missing something. I can feel it."

"Guster," Lassiter barked, he was getting impatient and they were getting nowhere, "are you sure you didn't notice anything suspicious?"

"I don't know!" Gus exclaimed and he stopped pacing, "I can't remember!"

"How can you not remember? It was only a few hours ago!"

"Carlton," Juliet tried to cut in, but neither man heard her.

"Not everyone looks at something and sees criminal activity, _Detective,_" Gus said, his voice growing in volume with each word.

"Well you should!" Lassiter said, "If you had then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe Spencer wouldn't be missing. And maybe we wouldn't have to consider the fact that he might be-"

"Detective!" Vick shot out of her chair, "We have no evidence that indicates that Mr. Spencer is dead, and no evidence at all to say that this is Mr. Guster's fault."

"Yes, Chief," Lassiter ground out. It was getting light outside and they'd all been up the entire night pouring over evidence from the scene, they were all tired and irritable.

There was a silence in the room for a while, and then Henry broke it saying, "Gus, I know you saw something. Think back to when you dropped Shawn off. Do you remember anything? A smell, or a sound, or a color. Anything?"

Suddenly Gus saw something in his mind, a flash of blue and then darkness. A blue car had turned it's headlights off just as he parked in front of Psych. He hadn't thought much of it then, but now he remembered.

"I saw a blue car parked nearby," Gus said quickly, "It turned it's headlights off when I pulled up in front of the office."

"Alright," Vick began, but then she notice Henry moving towards the door and said, "Where do you think you're going, Mr. Spencer?"

"To the Psych office," he answered as he opened the door and stepped out of Vick's office. Vick looked at Lassiter, he understood her silent message and followed Henry out.

Vick turned to Gus, "Mr. Guster, do you have security cameras outside Psych?"

"Yup, I've had them running for a week now," Gus said, his hopes rising.

The Chief looked at her Junior Detective, but as soon as she opened her mouth Juliet said, "I'll get a tech and we'll go over the footage." Then she and Gus both exited the office, leaving Vick by herself. She looked around the room, at all the things she'd added to make it more personal, and finally at that fish sculpture Spencer couldn't seem to leave alone when he was in there. As she stared at it she knew this room would never be the same if the psychic didn't return to mess things up in the future. Vick wasted no time in leaving the office and heading to her car. She couldn't just watch as her people worked the scene and do nothing.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Shawn finally got the phone out of his pocket and they were finally off the horribly rough road. That road had been hell on his battered body. Just like his dad's voice, which he'd managed to banish, had been hell on his mind. Except the road had been more painful.

And now that he had freed his phone he just had to figure out how to use it while it was behind his back. The trouble with iPhones was that the screen is a flat surface, making it so that there weren't recognizable buttons to push. He couldn't use it when he couldn't see it, so as long as it was behind him it was useless.

Shawn grasped the phone in one shaking hand, the shaking had gotten worse, but it was manageable, and then he attempted to toss it over his body. He managed to make the phone hit his side and then fall back to the floor behind him again.

He tried again, and this time he was determined to succeed. "C'mon, Shawn, it's not that hard. You can do it," He muttered to himself. But it was hard for him now, what with the trembling. He found it hard to hold on to the phone for long, and that scared him.

He tried again, and this time it landed about a foot from his face. He had been able to throw the phone over himself, but how would he work it?

Shawn brought his face closer to the phone so he could touch it with his nose and he grabbed it with his mouth. He brought his head back to where it had been before and dropped the phone. He brought his nose to the only button on the phone and pressed it hard until the screen lit up. Then he proceeded to attempt to unlock the phone.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Lassiter stood in the middle of the Psych office and as his gaze wandered across the room he couldn't help but wonder if it had been like this _before _or _after _Spencer was kidnapped. He didn't think it was possible to make such a struggle that _this _would happen. He was betting it had been like this before.

He stood behind the computer tech that O'Hara had brought with her and watched as he played the security footage from yesterday. They had started the tape hours before Guster actually dropped Spencer off. He didn't want to miss even the slightest thing.

"Wait!" Lassiter said to the tech, making the guy flinch, "Go back a few frames." The tech did as he was told until Lassiter called, "Stop!"

By now they had garnered the attention of Juliet, Gus, Henry, and the Chief, who'd arrived just moments before. Lassiter pointed to a vehicle on the screen, "That one looks suspicious. It's covered in dirt and it's blue." Juliet, Henry, and Vick all looked at the car on the screen with a critical eye, but Gus just sighed.

"That's the mailman, Lassiter," Gus said tiredly. Juliet's shoulders drooped and Henry's gaze was distant again, Vick looked disappointed. Then they heard a faint buzzing from somewhere.

Lassiter snatched his cell phone out of his pocket and without looking answered it. "Lassiter," he said quickly, and then got the shock of his life when he recognized the voice.

"Lassie!" Shawn Spencer's voice floated through the phone's speaker.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: Okay, so here's the part where I apologize like a crazy person "I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY!" Okay now on to more important things:_**

**_So this is actually a pretty long chapter by my standards, but after the long wait (I'm sorry!) you guys might feel like it's too short. Well, live with it. I had to end it somewhere! You're lucky I didn't make it shorter, but I thought you guys deserved a longer chapter. And it had to end with the length it did because... well, ya know... I just LOVE cliffhangers :D_**

**_I'm hoping for more reviews on this chapter than I've gotten on previous chapters, not because it's better (Though you might think it is) but because of the increasing amount of people reading this and putting it on story alert. I really do update faster when there is more reviews, believe me, it keeps me motivated._**

**_6/22/11: This chapter has been edited. PS: I tried out the whole thing with the phone that I wrote in the last chapter myself. I made sure it really would work before I wrote it._**

**_DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych or anything I didn't make up... If I DID own Psych then I wouldn't make us fans wait until November 10th for more episodes! Grrr... Nov. 10th won't come soon enough!_**

**_Well, enjoy!_**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Lassiter just stood there for a minute in silence and eventually he heard it again, that voice that he couldn't _really _be hearing. It was impossible. There's no way it could be him.

"Lassie? Are you there?" Shawn's voice had risen in pitch and Lassiter thought he could detect a bit of panic.

"Sweet Lady Justice," Lassiter breathed in shock, garnering the attention of the others. Lassiter ignored them, his gaze sweeping around the room until he found what he was searching for.

A young man, who was still suffering from severe acne, was seated at Spencer's desk, looking through his computer. Lassiter strode over to him quickly and spun his chair around so the kid was facing him. Lassiter knew that he must look intimidating, but that's how he wanted it. He didn't want this kid screwing up the biggest break in this case that they'd had so far.

"I want you tracing this call!" He shouted into the tech-guy's ear, "_Now!_"

"Yes, sir!" The kid started typing furiously at his keyboard. He then turned to Lassiter and looked up at him stupidly, waiting for a signal of some sort.

"Do I have to tell you how to do your job?" Lassiter growled, torn between annoyance that the kid hadn't started tracing the call and concern that he hadn't heard Spencer speak for a while now.

"N-no, sir!" The tech quailed and he turned back to his computer and punched a few keys on the keyboard. "R-ready," He said nervously, looking up at Lassiter with the expression of a child that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Detective, what's going on?" The Chief demanded.

Lassiter looked her in the eye and said, "It's Spencer."

He turned his attention away from them while they reacted; he didn't need to see them to know what they felt. Juliet went deathly pale, Gus looked like he was going to faint, Vick had the same reaction Lassiter had, and Henry's eyes filled with the prospect of hope. He'd been a cop after all, and cops knew how most kidnappings ended. Most of them _didn't _have happy endings, and Henry wasn't one of the people to believe they could when statistics were so strongly against those hopes, even when it was his own son.

"Spencer!" Lassiter barked into the cellphone, "Are you there?"

"Y-yeah, Lassie, 'm here," the psychic replied, sounding shaken.

Lassiter looked at the others, they were all staring at him intently, before he went back to speaking with the kidnapped Spencer. "Spencer, can you tell where you are?"

"Uh-uh," Shawn mumbled a reply. Lassiter thought he could hear the low rumble of a car's engine in the background, and his guess was confirmed when Spencer told him he was in a white van and being taken somewhere.

"Can you tell me who abducted you?" Lassiter questioned, "Did you see their faces at all?"

"Yeah." Spencer answered through the sudden crackling static, "I- was kidna- in a blue ca- former cop- I- hole-," he wasn't able to finish because the line suddenly went dead.

"Damn!" Lassiter swore along with other choice curse words. He whirled around, fury etched into the lines of fatigue on his face, and faced the computer tech.

"What happened?" Vick demanded, not missing a beat.

"I lost the damn connection!" Lassiter growled, and then to the tech, "Did you trace it?"

Everyone was deathly silent and all five friends and family of Shawn Spencer stared at the tech, the combined force of their unwavering gazes matching that of an unstoppable train. The tech swallowed nervously, "I, uh... the call... it wasn't... wasn't long enough for me to trace..." He looked down at his lap guiltily.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

****"Lassie? Lassie!" Shawn called desperately for the detective who'd been on the line just moments before. He knew Bill couldn't hear him over the grumble of the car's engine and the crunching crackle of the gravel road so Shawn was free to panic.

"Nonononononono..." Shawn mumbled almost incoherently, the panic was consuming him now. This was his last chance at being rescued. He knew he wouldn't be alive long enough to get another chance like this.

Shawn dialed Lassiter's number with his nose another time, not knowing that the van was soon to arrive at it's final destination, and waited as it rang. He clenched and unclenched his fists bound behind him in frustration. Why did this have to happen to _him_? He was the unbeatable, and seemingly invincible, psychic detective after all. How could he have let this happen?

"SPENCER!"

Shawn let out a sigh of relief when he heard the voice shout in his ear. Now he knew for sure that Lassiter cared, and that meant there was no doubt that Lassiter would rescue him. Shawn just didn't know if the detective would get there soon enough.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

They all heard Lassiter shout Shawn's name, and they all felt a swell of relief that was lost in an instant because just then they remembered just how dangerous this situation was. They all leaned toward the Head Detective eagerly, all of them thinking that Lassiter would be able to find Shawn. Lassiter _was _the Head Detective, after all, and if anyone could locate Shawn they knew he could.

"Spencer," Lassiter said for the second time, "I need you to stay on the line as long as possible. We're tracing the call right now." Lassiter glared pointedly at the computer tech, who scrambled to get started, not wanting to be the one to fail _again._

Suddenly Lassiter shook his head, then, as if remembering that Shawn couldn't see him, he said, "No, we _are _going to find you." It sounded reassuring to the others' ears, but then he added, "I don't want to have this failure on my record."

Lassiter paused as Shawn talked, they couldn't hear what he said, but they knew it probably wasn't good. Lassiter's dark eyes narrowed, "No, it's _not_ too late, Spencer, get that out of your head."

Juliet, sick of hearing only one side of the conversation, and wanting to hear Shawn's voice (not that she would admit that), motioned for Carlton to put the call on speakerphone. He did, and when everyone heard his voice for themselves a hard knot of fear formed in their hearts.

Shawn's words were garbled when he said, "'M bein' taken' to a house... inda ci'ee I think... He's gon' kill me..."

Gus, heart pumping erratically because of the sound of his best friend's voice, managed to hide his inner turmoil and make his voice sound calm when he asked, "_Who's _going to kill you, Shawn?"

"Gus?" Shawn asked, sounding dazed, "What're you doin' on Lassie's phone?"

"_Who, _Shawn?" Juliet interjected, attempting to get the psychic back on track. She was worried about him; he didn't sound good, and Juliet knew that meant he was injured. She only hoped that it wasn't too serious, and that he could hold on just a little while longer until they could find him.

"Al-zander," Shawn mumbled, confirming everyone's suspicions. They now knew for sure that Alexander Carmichael was their man. _He _was the one responsible for whatever was wrong with Shawn.

Henry couldn't keep silent anymore; his son's voice had gotten to him. He couldn't just ignore the signs; his son was injured and he needed help. Help that wouldn't arrive unless they could find him. Henry didn't think the kid at the computer would be much help in doing that. He had to get the answers they needed from Shawn.

"Shawn," Henry said sternly, earning glares from Gus and Juliet at his harsh tone, "what can you tell us about where they took you? What do you remember?"

"Mmmm..." Shawn paused for a moment, "The drive out took a lil' o'er an hour.. not too far... Goin' back to the ci'ee now... I think..."

Henry tried to squash his frustration at Shawn's lack of information; he knew his son wasn't in the best shape, but with his memory you'd think he would remember more than that tidbit. Instead of getting angry like he would've before this whole ordeal, Henry said something completely unlike himself, something reassuring, "Son, I know you. You'll be okay."

It wasn't much, but no one had expected Henry to stay calm. They'd expected him to blow up at his son. Admonish him for not telling them everything. Reassuring Shawn was the _last _thing they'd expected of him. It was like Henry telling Shawn "I love you" and giving him a hug, it was an outright show of affection for Henry.

Suddenly, without warning, the group heard a _bang _through Lassiter's cellphone. It wasn't a gunshot; that much they knew. It was like a metal-on-metal sound. With a start they realized it was a car door opening.

"He's coming," Shawn stated, shocked out of his dazed state by pure panic and adrenalin, "I-I can't stay on any longer. He'll find out, a-and take my phone."

"Spencer!" Vick shouted, "Don't hang up the phone!"

Then they heard a voice through the speaker, "Wha' the _hell _you doin', boy?"

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

_Oh, shit._

That was all Shawn could think in that fear-filled moment when the back doors of the van were yanked open, banging against the car due to the strength they were pulled open with. Then Bill was standing in front of him, all anger and menace in his flannel shirt, overalls, and big dirty boots.

Shawn barely heard Bill speak at first, then all the emotions, words, and sensations came back to him. The fear, Bill's question, and the pain Shawn was feeling all rushing back in one staggering blow. Then Bill grasped his left arm, his bad arm, and tried to yank him out of the van. Shawn tried to kick Bill with his good leg, but it just caused him more pain as the movement jostled his right leg.

Shawn cried out against both Bill's pulling and the pain. He wished it would all stop, that none of this had ever happened, but he knew it couldn't be changed. The only thing he could do was delay the inevitable. The inevitable being his death, and Shawn had too much to live for to allow that to happen just yet.

It only barely occurred to Shawn that his father and friends could hear everything, that he hadn't hung up the phone just yet. He was a little busy trying to keep from being taken wherever it was that Bill was trying to bring him, but the fact that the phone was on wasn't lost on him. It meant that they might have had enough time to trace his call, and now that they'd reached their destination Jules and Lassie might be able to find him. He could be rescued, or at least he was a little closer to being rescued.

Lost in his own thoughts, Shawn didn't notice Bill pull his fist back, aiming for his head. He only noticed this in the few seconds before the moment of impact.

Bill's fist struck the side of his head, near his temple, and the pain was nearly blinding. Shawn saw spots fly across his vision, and he found that he could barely keep his eyes open. The only thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was thinking, _Crap, that's gonna be one huge bruise, _and then everything went black.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: November. Was that really the last time I updated this story? I AM SO SORRY! I can't believe it... I promise I'll really try my hardest not to do that to you again. But rest assured, I will never leave a story uncompleted. No matter how long it's been since I last updated.**_

**_I really hope you guys like this chapter. I hope it was at least somewhat worth it. It's kinda short, but fairly average for me._**

**_6/22/11: Whoa. That was a lot of editing. And now I can finally say I'M DONE! This chappie has been edited :)_**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych. If I did, well, it probably would've been canceled due to a very odd, dramatic, and altogether crazy plotline (All of which would involve Shawn getting hurt in some way or another). :D**

**ENJOY!**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

"Shawn!" Juliet cried. They hadn't heard anything for at least a minute now. She yanked the phone from Lassiter's hands, saw that the line had gone dead, and proceeded to throw it across the room. She whirled around and started pacing, running her hands through her blond locks in frustration.

Lassiter could only blink. It took less than ten seconds for Juliet to steal his phone, and less than that for her to begin losing what sanity she still possessed since the start of that morning. He cringed as he heard an unsettling noise, it was jarring to his ears. It was coming from his left, by the large window in the Psych office, and when Lassiter looked to see what was making the awful noise, he was surprised to find that it was coming from Guster. The consultant was grinding his teeth relentlessly, as if determined to turn them to dust. There was no other outward sign of emotion; Gus had been getting much better at emotional control since the start of this whole fiasco. It wasn't surprising for him to be transferring emotions to a physical action, but it _was _surprising that he only showed frustration and nothing else. Guster was, after all, the most sensitive of the group.

Then a voice rang out into the sudden, uneasy silence, "Were you able to trace the call?"

It was Vick. She was the only one completely unfazed by the sudden turn the case had taken. Determination shone in her eyes, and the others took as much reassurance from her as they could. Right now, she was their rock that held them together and kept them from going completely insane. For a while, no one answered her. The tech apparently hadn't heard her, so she repeated herself, this time growling the words straight into his ear, "Were. You. Able. To. Trace. Trace. The. Call?" She added the pauses for emphasis, which caused the computer tech to jump in his -Spencer's- chair.

The kid stared at her with wide eyes, afraid to even breath for fear of being shouted at again. Then, he took a breath, preparing himself to answer them. As he took that breath, the others held theirs, fearful that even the slightest movement or noise could dissolve what little progress they'd made in their quest to rescue Shawn. Even Juliet had stopped pacing, though she was still positioned to take a step. Her hands were frozen where they'd been before Vick spoke: On her head, tangled in her hair.

Gus stopped grinding his teeth. He stared at the back of Vick's head as she stared into the eyes of the frightened computer whiz. He willed her to force the kid to speak. He wanted his best friend found. _Now. _ And surely Henry felt the same way, there was no way he'd be doing anything other than two things: One, staring holes through that kid, willing him to respond, or getting in his face, screaming at him for an answer. Since he wasn't doing the latter, he must be... Gus glanced to his right, where Henry had stood, but saw nothing.

He turned in a complete circle, but Henry wasn't anywhere inside of Psych. He was gone.

Disappeared just before the tech gave anybody an answer.

"Hey," Lassiter said after watching Gus do what he thought looked like an odd little dance in a circle and having finally caught on to what he was doing, "Where'd Spencer go?"

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

Back in the interrogation room, Ramona Clarke stared at the little camera in the corner opposite where she sat. She smiled at it, knowing by the little red indicator light that someone was watching her. Her brother had taught her many things about the inner workings of law enforcement, so when she'd been interrogated hours ago, she'd known exactly what to expect. Her sibling had trained her in the art of interrogation and subtle body language.

By the way the older detective -_Lassiter, _she remembered- spoke, she could tell that he'd done this numerous times before, and rarely made mistakes. His body language told her that he was experienced, hardened to the horrors policemen faced on a daily basis. It also told her that he was anxious. She'd seen the way his shoulder muscles had bunched up and his lips pressed into a thin line when she didn't speak. It didn't fit with the image and personality of the experienced cop she knew he was. That is was let her know that this particular detective was close to the case. Her brother hadn't told her specifics about the people she'd encounter. He hadn't even given her a group profile. She knew that Alexander had known exactly who he was targeting, not just the singular person, but all the men and women, friends and family, co-workers and others that surrounded him. Alex did excessive research while he was "away". There was no way he'd let a foolish mistake cost him his newfound freedom.

The other detective, the woman, she had only seen for a moment, but that was all it took. Ramona suspected that when the woman had gotten dressed that day, her clothes had been clean, perfectly ironed, and her hair had most likely been pulled into a tight pony-tail. However, when she'd stepped into the interrogation room, she had dirt on the left knee of her pants, from kneeling to pick up evidence no doubt, and strands of her hair had escaped from the elastic band used to tie it up. Noticing these things, Ramona had deduced that the woman was trying to be as actively involved in this case as she could. By her stance, which was rigid, she could tell that she was nervous, frightened almost. The way she spoke was distant. The distance in her voice could possibly mean that she was forcing herself to keep emotions at bay. And you only needed to keep your feelings away if they were too strong to control. All that meant this case was personal for her. Very personal.

For the second time, Ramona glanced at the camera, but this time the indicator light was off. Then she glanced at the mirror; she knew she'd never be able to tell if someone was watching her just by looking over there, but the red light on the camera was a sure sign. It was off now, which meant that either she was being watched from just behind the glass, or no one cared to record her anymore and no one was there. She doubted it was the latter. Right now, she was the single witness they had to their case. She was far too important not to be observed by _anybody._

Suddenly the door to the room was flung open. Ramona smiled when she saw who it was; because this was the one person she _did _know. She leaned back in her hard metal chair and crossed her ankles under the table, "Well, well, if it isn't..."

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

The tech kid had opened his mouth just as Lassiter had voiced his question. He stopped himself while Vick straightened and she and Juliet looked about. There was no sign of the man in question.

Vick, who had momentarily forgotten that she, in fact, was the Chief of Police, remembered her position. She locked gazes with her Head Detective, "I'm going back to the station to look for Henry. There aren't many places he could've gone. Let me know if _this," _she looked pointedly at the tech, "leads anywhere." Then she strode out the door and into the late morning sun.

Now it was just Juliet, Lassiter, and Gus that remained. The computer tech was there too, revealing just as little information as before. Though, now that Vick was gone, and some of the pressure was lifted from his shoulders, the kid could breath easier. He felt ready to reveal his findings to the others now.

"So?" Gus asked, his already thin patience snapping. He crossed his arms over his chest and began tapping his foot, which made the kid swallow nervously.

"I, um, well," he stalled, earning glares from the others. "I, f-found, ah, um, I found, uh."

"Oh, for Justice's sake!" Lassiter exclaimed, ready to slap the kid senseless, "Just get on with it already! We don't have any more time to spare!"

"Okay! Okay!" The tech, whose name tag Juliet noticed said 'Roger Jenkins', put his hands in the air on either side of his head in a gesture of surrender. "I was able to triangulate the call. It was bouncing between these three cell towers." Roger pointed to three green triangles on the computer screen.

"Which means _what, _exactly?" Juliet questioned. She was nearly bouncing in anticipation. She wanted to be out the door and in the car as soon as possible. They just might be able to find Shawn now.

"It means," Roger had gained quite a bit of confidence now that he knew the people around him weren't angry with him anymore, "that Shawn has to be somewhere either on Sycamore street or the road adjacent to it: West Avenue. That's all I can say for sure."

"It's Sycamore." Lassiter said, already heading to the door.

"What?" Gus asked, clearly confused. Lassiter was already out the door by this time though and didn't hear him.

"Don't you remember?" Juliet questioned as she and Gus followed Lassiter. "The note that I found in the parking lot? The one that McNab decoded? It said..."

By now Gus remembered. He remembered clear as day now, hearing McNab say _"Emergency site: 1933 Sycamore." _He hadn't been able to understand what it meant then, but now he understood perfectly. 1933 Sycamore Street was the emergency dump site.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

"Henry Spencer." Ramona stated, a wry smile playing on her red lips. She toyed with her dark curls coyly, hoping to irritate the old man; play with his psyche a little. Her brother always told her that mental warfare was her strong suit.

Henry stormed over to the table, somehow refraining from slamming his fists on the cold metal table between himself and Ramona. He wanted to just wring the truth from her. He knew she was his only _real _chance of finding his son. They had no hope otherwise.

"Where is my son?" He growled. He put his fists on the table and leaned forward slightly, invading Ramona's personal space. Therefor making her uncomfortable and uneasy.

"You're lucky, Mr. Spencer," Ramona said, that smirk on her face just another reminder of how hard it was going to be to break her and how little time he had to do it. "You're lucky that William didn't get his way." She knew she spilled a name. She also knew that without the proper information, which she knew the SBPD didn't have, they'd never be able to make a connection.

He suspected exactly what Ramona knew, so he didn't pay much attention to the name. Instead he moved on, "How's your daughter, Ms. Clarke? Still with the sitter on Sycamore?"

The revelation of her daughter startled Ramona. What possible reason did he have for bringing her up? And how did he know who her sitter was? Rather than feed him more information, she just stared at him. Eye contact was one of the most important ways of communication. Eyes told someone anything they needed to know. And what Henry's told Ramona was that he knew more than he was letting on. It wasn't smart for her to play any mind games right now. Not yet, anyway.

"No," Ramona said quietly. She didn't think one-word answers were enough to let anything slip. No; she was safe with one-word answers.

This time it was Henry who smirked, "I didn't think so." He turned to leave, but before he did, he looked back at the ex-nanny, "Thank you for your time, Ms. Clarke." She shot him a death-glare. He knew he was antagonizing her, but he couldn't help it. His son was missing and he had to take his frustration out on _somebody._

He exited the interrogation room, but didn't get very far away from it before he ran into Chief Vick. She had a scowl plastered on her face, and as soon as she spotted the elder Spencer, it deepened. "Where the hell have you been?" She asked, hands on her hips.

In her high heels she was about the same height as Henry. She was trying to intimidate him, but it just didn't have the same effect as being taller than the person who was being interrogated. He crossed his arms, "I just found out where Shawn is. He's somewhere on-"

"Sycamore." The Chief answered for him, waving a hand at him to signal him to stop. "Lassiter just called and told me. They were able to triangulate the call. They're headed down to the address we found on the note right now."

Then Henry started walking past her. She followed him, soon caught up, and asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get my son." Henry answered simply.

Together, Henry leading the way, the two began their descent to the SBPD parking lot. They would get in a car and proceed to 1933 Sycamore Street, where Lassiter, Juliet, and Gus where headed now.

They thought this was the end of their journey, but little did they know what really lay in store for them at their destination. They weren't aware of the Pandora's Box that they were about to open. They would soon find out though, and it was sure to be unpleasant.

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N: Hey guys! I know, I know... it's been WAY too long... _**

**_I know this is a short chapter, but it was just sitting there in my computer, all lonely and sad and stuff because I hadn't posted it yet. I thought I'd add more, which I did... but I'd thought I would've added a little bit more by now._**

**_Well, as you can see, that didn't work out. All of a sudden, THIS came out and I was like "What? Where did that come from?" but it works. And it had such a nice cut off point, too! You guys know me :) I have an addiction to cliffhangers :D_**

**_PS: We meet a new character in this chappie!_**

**_ENJOY!_**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Alexander Carmichael smiled to himself as he sat at alone in the farmhouse, thinking about his plan. It was perfect. Flawless. There was no way the psychic would get the better of him this time; because he _couldn__'__t._It was impossible for him to escape, and impossible for the police force to rescue him. His sister, Ramona, and her husband had that part covered.

_After __all, _Alexander thought as he rose from his seated position to gaze out the window, _Shawn __Spencer __is __as __good __as __dead._

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

"Can't you go any faster?" Juliet, in the passenger seat, complained for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I'm going as fast as I can, O'Hara," Lassiter answered her.

They'd been in the car for a few minutes, and Juliet couldn't seem to stop whining. She was constantly asking him if he could go faster, and when he said no, she pestered him to turn the sirens on. Lassiter would then remind her that they were already on.

Gus, on the other hand, was completely silent. The only visible sign of his anxiety was the constant _tap__tap__tap _of his fingers on the door handle. As the day wore on, Gus seemed to get progressively better at hiding his inner turmoil. Though every once in a while, Lassiter would hear a whispered, "C'mon, c'mon."

Just as Lassiter was about to turn onto a residential street, Gus made an announcement.

"We're being tailed," he said in an alarmed tone. His dark eyes were wide and his left hand nervously clutched the door handle.

Lassiter quickly glanced at the rearview mirror as Juliet craned her neck to peer through the rear window. He didn't see anything unusual at first, but as he took a second look, he saw a familiar car just behind them.

"Relax, Guster," Lassiter said, turning his attention back to the road. "It's the Chief's car."

"Oh," was all Gus said as he settled back into his finger-tapping habit, which only grew more irritating as time passed. Lassiter soon found that if he concentrated hard enough the sound would fade into the background noise of the rumbling engine.

A beat went by before anyone spoke again. "Hey," Juliet piped up. "What's the Chief doing?"

Lassiter glanced in the mirror again, but this time, Vick's car wasn't there. He cast a quick look out the driver's side window. His brow furrowed in confusion as he watched Vick's car pass his own. Looking at the speedometer, Lassiter concluded that the Santa Barbara Chief of Police was indeed speeding.

"She passed us, Carlton!" Juliet was practically bouncing in her seat now, anxiety clear in her voice. "We have to speed up!"

"_She _didn't pass us," Gus said quietly. "Henry did."

"Henry?" Juliet quit bouncing. "Why would Vick let Shawn's father drive her car?"

The incessant tapping stopped as Gus thought for a second. "Knowing Henry, she probably didn't," he answered. He fell silent after that, and began mentally cataloguing the cars that drove by. _Green __Ford __Focus__, __blue __truck, __white __van... _He did this for the next few minutes, until the screech of tires and the pull of the seat belt against his chest brought him back to reality. He looked around in confusion before noting that they seemed to be caught in the middle of a car accident.

"Oh, hell!" Lassiter snarled in frustration, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. The horn blared loudly, causing both Juliet and Gus to flinch.

Lassiter didn't turn off the sirens before he threw open the door of his brand new car rather carelessly and climbed out. He left the door open as he strode over to the scene of the accident, practically growling under his breath the whole time.

Two cars lay haphazardly over the dotted yellow line. One was a gold van, the other a smaller, more nondescript silver vehicle. The former was flipped on its side, having been hit by the smaller car, which had been traveling at a speed far beyond that of the limit.

Lassiter hardly even noticed when the Chief joined him, walking beside him silently. She wasn't quite as angry as he seemed to be, but she was pissed nonetheless. The stupidity of some people astounded her. She wondered what could possibly cause the driver of the silver car to suddenly accelerate and ram into a car in the opposite lane?

_Unless, _she thought, speeding up as suspicious thoughts raced through her mind. _Unless __he __did __it __on __purpose._

"Lassiter!" She barked, taking charge as they approached the accident cautiously. She was determined to follow protocol to the letter. "Find the driver responsible, get his name," she ordered, nodding her head in the direction of the silver car.

He glanced at her curiously, his eyes telling her they didn't have the time, but he listened to her. Following her directions he walked up to the driver's side. The car was relatively unscathed, as was the middle aged, silver-haired man inside, Lassiter noted.

The driver was conscious, but taking in rapid, wheezing breaths. At first Lassiter thought he'd broken a rib, which could possibly have punctured a lung. Then he noticed that the man's face wasn't lined with pain, and his eyes were glazed over and clouded with agony. No, they were clear and unwavering. The only thing they told Lassiter was that this man was scared.

"What's your name, sir?" He asked him authoritatively, whipping off his sunglasses in a very David Caruso-esque move.

Suddenly, the fear vanished from the other man's eyes. He now seemed at ease with the situation, with the question. Smirking, he said, "Pleased to meet you, too, Detective Lassiter. I'm Trenton Clarke."

As he reached his outstretched hand out the window, Lassiter's face drained of color a little, and his right hand twitched toward his holster. He knew that name...

Meeting the detective's gaze head-on, Trenton added, "But I believe you know me better as Ramona's husband."

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

_**So, I have no idea if any of you even remember my evil nanny character, Ramona, but Trent is her husband. Now they're an evil FAMILY! Yay!**_

_**He's gonna come to play more in the next chappie, or the one after that. I really don't know.**_

_**PS: This was NOT what I intended to write. It just happened, totally by accident!**_

_**But I like it. :)**_

_**Please be a good Samaritan and review! The review button is REALLY lonely...**_

_**Oh, and I can't promise when the next chapter will be out, sorry... But if you have any requests or suggestions I'll take them!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Hey everyone! I know, it's been two months... But look! A shiny new update for you! **_

_**This is how the last chapter was supposed to end, but I got sidetracked... And even now, this wasn't how I planned to end THIS chapter. Funny how things end up...**_

_**SHOUT OUT: I want to wish a very happy birthday to Empyrean Skies! I'm sorry I couldn't get this up earlier today, but I've been super busy! I hope you like my "present" to you! Also, your recent reviews have really kept me motivated to keep writing, even if it's just a little each day. So, you deserve a HUGE thank you! Plus, since it's your birthday, I'll even throw in a cyber pineapple :)**_

_**ENJOY!**_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

"Chief!" Lassiter yelled, already pulling Clarke's car door open. He heard the slap of her shoes on the pavement and felt the weight of his companions' stares as he hauled Clarke out of his car. Seeing the bastard's smirk, his earlier fear vanished, may or may not have caused Lassiter to force Clarke to "accidentally" hit his head on the roof of the car. Hearing the other man's yelp of pain and surprise brought a slight smile to his face.

"Detective?" Vick questioned, allowing a bit of hope to leak into her voice. Her suspicion was about to be confirmed, she knew -no- she could _feel _it.

"Meet Trenton Clarke," Lassiter began, grabbing said man by the back of his shirt and shoving him against the car. "Mr. Clarke here is our suspect's husband." He pulled Clarke's arms behind him, receiving a grunt in response to his roughness, and proceeded to cuff them.

Vick's eyes widened for a moment before she her cool, professional mask made her face impassive. "Arrest him," she ordered, her tone frosty.

"On what charges?" Clarke asked incredulously. His face still forcibly pressed into his car.

"Being an accomplice to a kidnapping and attempted murder," she answered, sure of the Clarkes' and Carmichael's intent.

"What?" Clarke looked surprised, but Vick and Lassiter both knew there was smug satisfaction behind that bewildered facade. Both cops ignored his questions, and began to lead him back to Lassiter's car before realizing that they had been in the middle of a rescue. That, and O'Hara and Guster were still occupying his vehicle; neither knew what was happening.

Lassiter covered his momentary lapse in memory and called for Juliet, who was halfway out of his Crown Vic anyway. "O'Hara!"

She rushed over to meet them, leaving Gus in the car alone, something Lassiter was definitely uncomfortable with. "Carlton," she paused, looking at Clarke in confusion, "what's going on?"

Lassiter jumped right in, "This is Trenton Clarke. I need you to take him back to the station and begin interrogation immediately." When he saw she was about to argue, he cut her off before she could begin, "Take my car, and just do it." It hurt for him to give her control of his car, but he knew that he had to make it to their destination; because if what they found there was bad, he knew he couldn't let her see it.

She glared at him even as she grabbed their new suspect's arm. The fury in her blue eyes was enough to make him cringe mentally. He had taught her well, and he knew that if looks could kill, he would be a smoldering pile of ash right then.

"Lassiter," the Chief called, and he noticed that she had turned away and started for her car. "Let's go." He nodded, and followed her lead. He would be content to take the backseat, literally. Henry was, after all, still driving Vick's car.

The elder Spencer didn't waste a moment after the Head Detective had gotten in. Almost as soon as his rear end hit the seat, the former cop was going around the scene of the accident at a speed that Lassiter thought surely wasn't legal. But at that moment, Lassiter couldn't bring himself to care.

There was one thing that was bugging him though, and he decided to voice it, "What about the other vehicle? The van?"

"While you were directing O'Hara on what to do, I told some officers that were following us to stay behind and take charge of the accident," she answered, and Lassiter nodded in agreement. He had no doubt that he would have done the same thing.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

It took less than ten minutes for the group to finally reach their desired destination. And when they got there, they felt no sense of relief. None whatsoever. The tension didn't dissipate; it just went up. It was nearly palpable by the time Lassiter and Vick made it up the front walk; Henry had been ordered by Vick to stay behind, though she wasn't sure if he'd obey. She figured he wouldn't, and she had no idea how she felt about that.

As they slowly crept toward the front door, both cops drew their guns simultaneously. They understood whom they were dealing with, and refused to be caught off guard. They had to be ready; this could be their last chance to get it right.

Vick watched as Lassiter stepped ahead of her and moved to the right side of the door while she moved to the left. He reached out and pounded on the door three times, shouting, "SBPD! Open up!" When they received no response, the two shared a glance, and, after Vick's nod of approval, Lassiter kicked the door open.

They rushed in, guns held aloft and steady. They were ready for whatever might pop out at them. Moving down the hall, they didn't notice anything even remotely out of the ordinary, save for the lack of any evidence suggesting that someone might live there. So far, it seemed as if the house was totally unoccupied.

Finally, the hall brought them to a single door. They thought this was odd, but didn't have time to think about it any further. Lassiter grasped the knob and turned it, and the two of them moved in quickly.

It was dark inside the room, too dark. Vick was about to tell Lassiter to turn on the mini flashlight she knew he carried when the lights suddenly flickered on. Either Lassiter had found the light switch, or a motion sensor triggered them.

When Vick's eyes had adjusted to the sudden change in lighting and she was finally been able to see the room in which she stood, she nearly dropped her gun in shock. Her eyes widened in horror at what she saw around her.

"Sweet Lady Justice..." Lassiter breathed, holding his gun at his side as he took it all in.

Vick closed her eyes briefly, already needing a respite from what she was seeing. "Call CSU," she told Lassiter, "and tell them..." Vick trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Tell them to hurry."

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

_**So, I know it's probably not what you were expecting... but it's what the muse wanted. And what the muse wants, the muse gets... It is a very demanding creature, ya know.**_

_**Please review and tell me what you thought about this chapter/the whole story, and let me know if you have any suggestions or things you'd like to see happen.**_

_**Also, if you guys have an idea that you'd really like to see me write, please tell me about it! If I think I can do a good job, I will definitely give it my best shot :)**_

**_The next chapter will hopefully be up before another two months go by :)_**


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Um, Hello there. Remember me? Yeah, I'm the one that makes those update promises and then doesn't follow through very well? Yep.**_

_**Well, here it is folks. I don't have any excuses for you. However, I do want to say that I appreciate and want to thank everyone that has reviewed, followed, favorited, and read this story. I am constantly astounded by the fact that people actually read this, especially the ones that have been following and such in recent months.**_

_**Thank you so much! It really means a lot :)**_

_**I have finished this story, and the next chapter will be posted on either late Saturday, Sunday, or Monday.**_

_**ENJOY!**_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Lassiter felt sick to his stomach as he stared at the blood-spattered wall across from him. It painted the dull grey walls in grotesque arcs of red. Lassiter stared in a horrified kind of fascination as he thought of what had possibly occurred in this room; the victim had obviously had his throat slit from ear to ear, which would have severed the major artery in his neck. It was most likely a quick death since the victim's lifeblood would have spurted from what was surely a gaping wound quite rapidly.

The victim...

Lassiter shifted his focus to the source of all that blood. The victim sat tied to a cheap wooden chair in the middle of the small room, which was the only piece of furniture there. He faced away from Lassiter; so only the back of his head was visible to the two cops. Lassiter imagined that the sightless eyes of the victim were set permanently in death upon the view of his own blood all over the wall.

As he came to the end of this train of thought, Lassiter realized that he feared thinking anything beyond the impersonal facts of the newly discovered crime scene. He couldn't make himself check the victim's identity for fear of those facts being turned into startlingly personal revelations. He was afraid that not only would this victim be the SBPD's missing psychic, but that the look of judgment and blame he so expected to see would be permanently etched onto the man's face. One final message from the psychic, conveyed from another plane of existence that Lassiter didn't really believe in. Yet until he glimpsed the victim's face, whether it be Spencer's or someone else's, Lassiter didn't have to face that possibility, the guilt. He could still hold onto the last thin thread of hope he possessed.

"Oh, God," He heard Vick exhale in a shocked whisper. He could guess all too easily what she was thinking: What if it was Shawn? What would they tell Henry? Henry, Lassiter realized, who was _still waiting in the car just outside. _Hopefully still in the car, Lassiter amended silently.

As Lassiter had guessed Vick was contemplating the very same ideas from where she stood beside him. Thinking of Henry, as Lassiter had been, forced Vick to confront the fears they both harbored about the victim's identity. She, however, was the Chief of Police. Lassiter was not. It was her job to take charge and check the body, not his. With that, she took a hesitant step forward, gathering her courage and resolve. Then she approached the corpse.

When she saw the man's face she almost burst into tears, right there in that very spot. But she was a cop. Cops didn't cry at crime scenes. They especially didn't cry tears of joy over the bodies of men they barely knew.

Vick felt a relieved half smile find its way onto her face. It wasn't Shawn. The body in the strangely empty house was not Shawn Spencer. She couldn't repeat that fact enough. They'd just been granted a little more time, a second chance, and they wouldn't let it go to waste.

The thought of time sobered her; they had already spent far too long in this room. They needed to search the rest of the house and process the crime scene as soon as humanly possible. She needed to get this investigation under control. Now.

Vick took a deep, calming breath as Lassiter, having read the relieved look on her face rather easily, made the requested call to the station. They had to move fast if they were going to catch up to Carmichael and stop him once and for all. They were running out of time and options. She shut her eyes briefly as Lassiter ended the call, handing the cell phone he'd borrowed from her back, and readied herself for what she swore would be the last leg of this twisted race.

"I need you to run this crime scene, " Vick told Lassiter once he'd put away his phone. "Find the evidence we need to arrest Carmichael and his associates and put them all away for good."

"What about the Clarkes? O'Hara can't interview both of them. And what about Henry?" Lassiter questioned.

Vick sighed impatiently, "Henry will come back to the station with me to look over what little evidence we have."

Lassiter nodded in agreement, reading between the lines, "He doesn't need to see how close his son came to ending up like this." He gestured to the corpse and bloodied wall. In any case, whether or not Henry would be emotionally affected by that thought, Lassiter was all too happy to seem him depart with the Chief. Henry Spencer had been tough enough to work with _before _he retired and his son was kidnapped; Lassiter could hardly begin to imagine what he would be like _now_. It would be impossible for Lassiter to process this scene thoroughly with the elder Spencer breathing down his neck.

Lassiter's attention wandered back to the body in the center of the room. The sight caused him to press his lips in to a thin line of determination. Turning to face his boss, he said, "This needs to end."

"I know," Vick said as she turned to leave. Before she passed through the doorway, she glanced back at her detective as he began to reassess the scene. "And, Detective?" Lassiter looked up from whatever it was that he was inspecting. "No mistakes. We can't afford any setbacks." Lassiter nodded once, quickly.

"Yes, ma'am," he promptly replied. With that, the Chief left for her car and the man she'd left inside it. With any luck, he might actually still be there.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Juliet wasn't usually an angry person, so the unadulterated rage she felt boiling in her veins was a constant shock to her. She was normally quite friendly and optimistic, but the last few hours and her partner's ridiculous orders to "escort" Trenton Clarke to the station had pushed her past her breaking point. On top of all that, the earlier conversation (if you could call it that) with Shawn and the proceeding dial tone had put her on edge. Her nerves were frayed beyond repair at this point, no matter what happened.

She had reached the station in record time, but couldn't recall much from the drive beyond her own seething loathing for the man in the back seat. It was all lost in a haze of adrenalin and fury. The only thing that clearly stood out from the rest in her mind was the memory of the bewildered look on Gus's face when she yanked the door open, shoved Trent Clarke inside, and jumped into the driver's seat. At some point during the drive, and after answering Gus's initial startled question of _what the hell was going on, _she'd managed to tune out every distraction. She even ignored Gus's panicked exclamations as they drove farther away from where they would supposedly find Shawn. It had all been drowned out by the static, white noise in her head. She'd just shut her mind and her conscience off somehow. All her thoughts, her feelings, everything, just _poof_ and they were no more. That is, all her feelings except for the anger. _That _she held onto with a metaphorical white-knuckled grip, as if it were the only thing keeping her together.

Now that they'd reached and booked Trent though, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. Sure, she'd love nothing more than to get into one of those interrogation rooms and rip the Clarkes to shreds, but she knew that this case had to be handled delicately. She couldn't afford to tip her hand when she didn't really know what cards she was holding. She hadn't heard from either Lassiter, the Chief, or even Henry. She supposed she should try to call them herself, but something inside her was afraid of what she might hear. Right now, she was operating on the assumption that no news was good news.

In the end, Juliet's caution was all for naught, because Chief Vick called her not two minutes after she silently acknowledged her fears. Her desk phone began to ring as she stared off into space for the umpteenth time. She hesitated for only a second after recognizing the number Vick's before answering, "Hello?"

The Chief's disappointed tone came through clearly, "O'Hara, Henry and I are on our way back to the station. I need you to start interviewing Trenton Clarke. I'll interrogate his wife when I get there."

Vick and Henry were heading back to the station? Internal alarms went off at the sound of that, and Juliet swallowed heavily before asking, "And Shawn?"

She heard the Chief sigh and steeled herself for the worst. "He wasn't there," the Chief explained. "We got there only to find an as yet unidentified male victim in the house, but no sign of Mr. Spencer. Lassiter is processing the scene with CSU."

"Damn it!" Juliet swore; she couldn't help it. They had been so close, and now they were back to square one.

"Detective!" Vick reprimanded sharply, "You need to keep your emotions under control. Can you do that?"

Juliet's left hand clenched into a fist in frustration, then she slowly released her fingers. A futile attempt at relaxation, surely. "Yes," she said.

"Good. We need to stay levelheaded if we're going to find Shawn," Vick told her.

"I understand," Juliet replied. "I'll head to interrogation right away." The two then said a brief farewell, and then Juliet was off to the interview rooms. Somehow, Gus had overheard her end of the conversation without her noticing and proceeded to follow her there. He didn't follow her into the interrogation room, for which Juliet was relieved, but instead opted to remain in observation.

Going into the interrogation she was initially somewhat optimistic; maybe they would learn something valuable and pertinent to the case. By the end of it, she was feeling quite differently. Trent Clarke hadn't told her anything of any value. Instead, he'd kept his end of the conversation to trivial things such as his new designer shirt. As a defense attorney, his brother-in-law Alexander Carmichael's in fact, he made a good deal of money. He'd told her all about it during the interrogation, and it was all useless.

She did her best to keep from slamming the door to the interrogation room as she left, but the resounding thud still made Gus flinch. He'd been waiting for her, watching the whole thing from his side of the glass. He knew the disappointment she was feeling. He was determined to make the best of things though, and as soon as he saw her he was tossing out new ideas.

"Maybe we should look at the original Carmichael case?" He suggested to her as they walked back to the squad room to wait for the Chief to finish her interrogation. "You know, to give this case a different perspective?"

Juliet sighed tiredly and shrugged, "It couldn't hurt, I guess."

She and Gus changed direction to the file room and pulled up any hard copies of the original Carmichael case. They then took them back to Juliet's desk and pored over the files detailing the murders of Lisa Carmichael, Evan Carmichael, and little Katie Carmichael. Immersed in the past as she was, Juliet couldn't help remembering the moment when the truth about Officer Alexander Carmichael was revealed to the entire SBPD thanks to one Shawn Spencer...

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

**Flashback: The Carmichael Family Murder Investigation**

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Juliet groaned and dropped her head into her hands. She had been sitting at her desk staring at the case file for what felt like hours. She and Lassiter had gone over every aspect of the three Carmichael murders more times than she could recall, and every time they hit a dead end. Every suspect with even the slightest hint of a motive for murdering the family had an airtight alibi.

Even when they tried to dig into the family's past and uncover possible secrets they couldn't come up with anything that might be cause for murder. Lisa, the wife, hadn't been having an affair. Evan, the thirteen-year-old son, hadn't gotten involved in any trouble at school, no underage drinking or anything of the sort. Certainly the family's seven-year-old daughter, Katie, hadn't prompted the murders in any way. The Carmichael family was spotless. Absolutely perfect.

Which meant that Juliet and Lassiter had an absolutely horrid time trying to find any leads. Especially with the family's only surviving member, a police officer by the name of Alexander Carmichael, breathing down their necks every step of the way. The pressure was mounting, and the Chief was threatening to hand the case over to Richards and Peterson if they couldn't solve it soon. It was either that, or give up and let the case go cold.

Juliet shook her head sadly; she couldn't imagine ever letting this case go. She couldn't call herself a detective if she didn't solve this case, because she wouldn't be able to do her job everyday if she knew that she had let down a fellow officer of the law. That kind of failure was almost too much for her to comprehend.

Turning back to the files open on her desk, Juliet prepared herself to reread the same information she'd already memorized after the last several reads. However, she never quite got there due to a sudden commotion near the stairwell.

"I need to speak with Detective Lassiter!" A deep male voice shouted. Other officers looked at each other curiously and got up to see who it was that disturbed the somber silence that had overtaken the squad room since the Carmichael investigation began. Soon enough, there was a wall of uniformed officers and detectives blocking Juliet's view of the entrance to the building.

"Where is he?!" There was an unmistakable note of anger in the man's voice, and the crowd murmured apprehensively in response. Juliet's eyebrows drew together in concentration; she knew that voice, vaguely recognizing it as someone she had spoken to before.

"Carlton Lassiter, you bastard!" The man had forgone any attempt at discretion as he called Lassiter out by name. "Get out here and show yourself!"

It was then, as the man began to shove through the crowd of policemen that Juliet finally placed where she knew the man from. He burst through the wall of people and Juliet stood up behind her desk.

There was no mistaking the tall, athletic, brown-haired Officer Carmichael, and he was tangibly irate for some unknown reason. Juliet made her way toward him, but he only had eyes for her partner. The officer's head whipped violently back and forth, searching the room for Lassiter.

"Excuse me, Officer Carmichael," Juliet tried to capture his attention as she approached him. "Is something wrong?" She asked worriedly. The man had already suffered so much tragedy. It wouldn't be fair if fate decided to suddenly thrust more troubles upon the bereaved man.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Carmichael ground out through gritted teeth. "'Is something wrong?' She asks. No shit! I wouldn't be here otherwise!"

Juliet was taken aback. She'd never seen Officer Carmichael behave like this. Not even when she and Lassiter had to inform him of his wife and children's deaths. He'd been polite even as tears had run down his cheeks. This man, this scarily angry man was not the one she knew.

His eyes bore holes into her head when he turned to glare at her. "Where's your partner, girl?"

Juliet's jaw almost hit the floor. Girl? Did he really just address her, a colleague, that way? She restrained herself from getting angry with him and instead rephrased her original question. "Sir, is something wrong?"

If anything, her professional demeanor only seemed to enrage him further. He was just about to start shouting at her when he caught sight of something behind her. Juliet noticed the way his gaze wandered over her shoulder and settled there. She turned around to look and found her partner standing there, a mug of fresh coffee in his hand.

She saw Lassiter frown as he took in the sight before him: Officer Carmichael towering over his partner, who had a cold, impersonal expression on her face, and then the crowd of co-workers that hovered just behind them. He couldn't fathom what would be the cause of such a situation, but his gut instinct said it wouldn't be anything good.

"You!" Carmichael marched over to where Lassiter stood at the other end of the room. "You think you have the right to say those things to me?"

Lassiter was obviously missing something, as was everyone else in the room based on the looks of utter confusion on their faces. "I didn't say anything to you. I haven't spoken to you since O'Hara and I met with you yesterday to ask you a few question."

"Stop trying to save your own ass," Carmichael said with disgust. "I got your letter. How dare you accuse me of murdering my own family!" The officer's eyes burned with pure hatred toward the Head Detective.

_"What?!"_ Both Lassiter and O'Hara shouted at the same time, whilst, unbeknownst to them, another figure slipped into the room under cover of the multitude of whispering police officers lingering in the room.

"Um," a new voice interrupted. "If I may offer my expertise on this matter?"

All eyes turned to the smirking face of none other than Shawn Spencer, who had wormed his way into the room just in time to see Officer Carmichael confront Detective Lassiter. As soon as he had the attention of the entire room, which was exactly what he'd wanted, he spoke, "I have a confession to make."

"You're a fraud?" Lassiter remarked dryly. Juliet rolled her eyes, but Shawn just laughed it off.

"No, silly!" He waved a hand as if to wave away the too-accurate suggestion. "But I am the one who sent that letter to Officer Carmichael and signed Lassie's name."

"Shawn," Juliet admonished, thoroughly embarrassed on her friend's behalf for what she believed to be a huge mistake. "Why would you ever do that?"

"Because, dear Jules," Shawn began, "I needed to make sure everybody witnessed the killer's confession."

"You little shit!" Carmichael snarled and started toward the psychic. He would have gotten to him, and probably strangled him, if it weren't for Lassiter holding him back.

"Let's see what the idiot has to say for himself," Lassiter said. He didn't want to believe Spencer, but there was a niggling doubt at the back of his mind.

"Thank you," Shawn dipped his head exaggeratedly in mock gratitude.

Before he began, Shawn got a chair and stood on it. What could he do? He was a performer at heart. He cleared his throat to get the attention he knew he already had, "Now, I sent you that letter, Officer, because I know you killed your wife and kids. You see, I had this vision late last night and the spirits told about your penchant for violence. Then they told me all about how you used to beat up your wife." At this Shawn glared at the man. "Then they told me about how you used your police connections and intimidation techniques to keep her, and your kids, quiet. They couldn't come forward."

Shawn continued, "They couldn't, that is, until Evan recorded one of your arguments, in which you copped to all your dirty deeds. You found out he was going to come forward with it and decided that it was time to shut them all up. For good."

Shawn then told everyone present all about what "the spirits told him," such as the hidden tape of Carmichael's confession hidden under the living room floorboards, how Carmichael covered up his crime, and where the police could find corroborating evidence and his dirty accomplices.

That night, they were able to make multiple arrests on the counts of murder, accessory to murder, and obstruction of justice. It was a good night for justice, but a terrible event for the SBPD. It took weeks to fully vet everyone out again and for the department to begin to put the discovery of dirty cops behind them.

As they dragged a cuffed Alexander Carmichael down to the holding cells to book him, everyone in the vicinity could hear him as he swore to rip the psychic limb from limb and then feed his remains to the animals. The shouting didn't stop until Carmichael was left alone in a cell, and even then the officers and detectives in the building could hear the occasional rattle of cell bars as Carmichael shook them in frustration.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

As Juliet came back to the present and out of her memories, she wondered if perhaps Carmichael's threats that night hadn't just been insults hurled in a fit of rage. Maybe he actually intended to follow through with his terrible promises. She immediately stopped what she was doing and abruptly stood up from her seated position at her desk. It was just a theory, but it was more than they'd gotten from either of the Clarkes and surely more than Lassiter would find at the new crime scene.

"Chief!" She called as she hurried to find her superior, Gus at her heels. "Chief!"

Vick was just coming out of the interrogation room, looking angry and frustrated, when Juliet found her. Vick's eyes widened as she took in Juliet's excited and hopeful body language.

"I think I know where we can find Shawn."

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

_**I really hope you guys liked this chapter. Remember: There is one more chapter left in this story, and it is currently complete.**_

_**I started to get really frustrated with this story, so I'm sorry if certain parts, or, Fanfiction gods forbid, the whole chapter wasn't to your liking. Still, it's the way I felt it had to go.**_

_**Also, I'm sorry for any typos. They are completely accidental and entirely my fault.**_

_**Please leave me some feedback by pressing that button at the bottom and reviewing!**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**You know you guys are awesome, right? I mean it, seriously. **_

_**Here it is! The very last chapter! Just as promised. I would've waited until tomorrow in order to give more people the chance to read Chapter 12, but I was too eager to finally finish this story. I know you guys are eager to do so, too.**_

_**ENJOY!**_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Shawn moaned as he regained consciousness. The pain in his leg and shoulder had dulled, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Although, he couldn't really distinguish between the pain in his leg and shoulder from that of his swollen face and bruised body. Put simply, his entire body was just one huge bundle of _hurt._

He blinked a few times to clear his vision, but soon found that he couldn't open his left eye due to the swelling. He had no idea why his face would be so swollen and painful, but he had a pretty good idea that it was from a meeting between his face and Bill's fist.

He couldn't remember anything after calling Lassiter and trying to tell him where he was and what was happening. He got the feeling that he never did make it to that destination. The smell of manure that he got a whiff of told him that he was back in the countryside, where he had first been taken to and then subsequently shoved into a deep, dark hole.

Looking around, Shawn deduced that he wasn't back inside the hole. The fact that there were four walls, a floor, and a ceiling complete with a bare lightbulb attested to this fact. It would appear that this time his captors had decided to provide him with more humane accommodations, if you could call it that. As he became more aware of his surroundings, Shawn took in the absence of windows and the cold, concrete floor he was lying on and decided that he was being held in the basement of somebody's house.

Shawn expected someone to barge in through the single, heavy-looking door at any second, like they would in the movies, but no one came. Soon, he found that it was becoming harder to keep his eyes open. The concussion he must've sustained at some unknown point of his abduction was getting the better of him. He'd barely been awake for a few minutes before he was slowly slipping back into unconsciousness.

He wasn't the type to worry about anything too much, but as the comforting arms of blackness prepared to embrace him again, he thought that the others had better find him soon; because he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Juliet explained her theory slowly and carefully to the Chief, Henry, Gus, and Lassiter (who was listening over speaker phone). She didn't want them to think she was being wishful and hadn't thought through her plan. She honestly believed that this could be it, and frankly, they didn't have any other leads to go on. This was their only hope.

The Chief visibly hesitated before saying, "Alright... O'Hara, you lead a couple of units to this farm. Lassiter," she addressed the man on the phone, "you head on over as well. I'm sure CSU has our unidentified victim's case well in hand. I'll follow up from the station and coordinate emergency services as well as handle the DA's office. They're calling for Carmichael's and the Clarkes' heads." Juliet nodded and Lassiter made a noise of agreement. They ended the call, and Juliet began to hurry out of the building.

"Wait a minute!" Henry called out.

Juliet turned around to find Henry and Gus both staring pointedly at Vick. The woman sighed, "Fine. O'Hara, take Mr. Guster and Mr. Spencer with you."

"And, gentlemen? Do as she says," Vick raised her eyebrows, daring either of the men before her to challenge her order. Neither one did.

Soon, they were off to follow up on nothing more than a hunch. As they climbed into a squad car, Juliet fervently prayed that she was right. She didn't think anyone could take another disappointment. And, though she didn't want to even consider it, she didn't think Shawn had the time for another mistake.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

An indeterminate amount of time later, Shawn was roughly jolted awake by a kick to the stomach. He groaned in response to the renewed pain in his body and opened his eyes, grimacing as the sudden light aggravated his already throbbing head. He squinted up at the figure towering over him, and recognized him as Alexander Carmichael.

"Hey, man," Shawn greeted weakly. "What's up?"

Carmichael crouched down to Shawn's eye level, pure hatred for the pseudo psychic clear in his eyes. "'What's up'? I'm going to kill you now for what you did, you fucking asshole. That's _what's up._" He stood suddenly and kicked Shawn again, this time aiming for his rib cage.

Shawn curled into a fetal position in a vain attempt to protect himself. He knew it was useless, but in his weakened state it was all he could manage. He was actually impressed at being able to do even that, what with his leg, his dislocated shoulder, and his various other injuries. God, he was a mess.

"I should've just done it all myself," Carmichael grunted as he kicked Shawn again, this time making contact with Shawn's forearm, which was protecting his head. "Then I wouldn't be having these problems."

"But I just had to listen to my sister and let her make a production of it," Carmichael mumbled mostly to himself as he wandered away for a moment, walking around Shawn.

"She wanted me to show the SBPD that I knew their game, that I was smarter than them," Carmichael continued. "So we came up with this kidnapping as a distraction. It took Mona a month to get in with that family. Then we used their daughter as a distraction..." Carmichael trailed off, and Shawn couldn't help it as he saw an opening to interject. It was just in his nature.

"Dude," Shawn peeked at his abductor from behind the dubious protection of his arms to stare at Carmichael, who had turned away from him. "You know that this monologue thing is a total cliche, right? You're having a Scooby-Doo moment!"

"Shut up!" Carmichael yelled angrily, turning back to face him.

Even as weak as he was, Shawn couldn't help the half-hearted grin that took up residence on his face. "What, are you going to say: and I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids?" Shawn considered his own suggestion for a moment. "I'd consider rephrasing if I were you. I don't think that Lassie would appreciate being called- _Ooof!" _Shawn got the wind knocked out of him as Carmichael launched a series of vicious kicks all over his body.

By the end of the brutal assault, Shawn was biting his bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain. He knew he shouldn't have said anything, but his smart mouth was a lot more persuasive than his self-preservation instincts.

Shawn could tell from the sharp pain in his left side that at least two ribs were cracked, maybe broken. He was wheezing, too, but he didn't know if it was from the sudden attack or if a rib had punctured a lung. Shit, he was in bad shape. He attempted to concentrate on riding out the waves of pain, but his focus was soon broken by a tell-tale clicking sound. He looked up to see Carmichael standing in front of him, a gun in his unwavering grip.

Rage simply rolled off the man, and Shawn could see that he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. There was nothing Shawn could do, and he certainly wasn't going to open his mouth and try to persuade Carmichael not to do it. Trying to reason with this man wasn't going to work. Shawn closed his eyes briefly; it looked like his time had finally run out.

He opened them again to stare down his potential killer. If he was going to go down, he was going to make sure he looked Carmichael in the eyes. Shooting a man in the back was one thing, but seeing the look in their eyes as they died was another. It was also an act of defiance, and if there's one thing that Shawn Spencer was, it was defiant. Rebelliousness had always been his second nature.

Carmichael met his stare unflinchingly.

And then everything went to hell.

_BANG!_

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

Juliet was an absolute maniac behind the wheel. There was no traffic law she hadn't broken by the time they arrived at the farmhouse. She parked it haphazardly beside the only other vehicle on the premises, a large van. She, Henry, and Gus jumped out of the squad car as three other units joined them. Not long after, Lassiter's borrowed squad car came barreling onto the property.

"Okay, Jacobs and Marks, take the east end of the property with the fields," Juliet ordered as the other cops approached. "Brennan and Jones, take the west end with that old farmhouse. Lewis and Kingston, you guys take that garage to the south. Lassiter and I will take the farmhouse. Henry and Gus, _stay here._" The other cops nodded their assent and broke off to investigate their assigned locations. Juliet looked over at Lassiter to find him staring at her peculiarly.

"What?" She snapped. They were so close and she was in no mood to talk about how she had just snatched the reigns of this operation out from under him.

"Nothing," Lassiter said calmly, still staring. "You just surprised me, O'Hara."

She ignored him, and, with a determined look in her eyes, set off toward the farmhouse. Lassiter jogged after her, which left Gus to look after Henry, whose obedience Juliet wasn't entirely sure would last.

She'd found the farmhouse through some old papers in Ramona Clarke's file. When she'd married Trenton Clarke, her brother had bought Trenton's excess property, the farmhouse, from the newlyweds. He'd never lived there, and it wasn't listed in any of his files, but he'd vaguely referenced it in the past and had a link to it. That was enough for Juliet, and apparently the rest of the SBPD as well. Also, she couldn't think of another place that Carmichael might find animals at the ready; that is, if he really did intend to make good on his promise of vengeance.

Juliet and Lassiter made their way into the house and split to the sides to cover more area. After finding that the main floor was clear, they went to the only place they had left to search: the basement. Since the house didn't have a second story, it had only one set of stairs leading down.

They descended the stairs carefully and quietly, taking it all in. They were about halfway down when they began hearing muffled voices, and that was enough to make them hurry down the stairs. Following the voices, the traveled down a hall and to the second door on the right. They exchanged a brief glance, both nodding in silent agreement before Lassiter, without warning, kicked the door in with minimal fuss. There was a loud, echoing _boom _as the door was knocked off its old, rusted hinges and onto the floor.

The sight they were met with was utterly shocking, and they only had a nanosecond to take it all in. They could see Carmichael, a gun in his hands and aimed at the man on the floor, who just happened to be the very man they were looking for.

Shawn.

However, they had no time to be relieved, because as soon as Carmichael heard the door slam open he flinched and pulled the trigger reflexively. Everything after that happened in a mad rush and a haze of action and shouting.

Juliet and Lassiter found that there was no stopping Carmichael in his state of apparent rage, and so when he prepared to shoot the two of them, Lassiter immediately fired his own weapon.

Carmichael went down with two bullets to the chest. He didn't get up.

Juliet rushed to Shawn as Lassiter secured the body. She couldn't believe she'd been right! They'd finally found him! She was absolutely elated as she kneeled next to his still form from where he lay on the floor. Her happiness lasted for only a few moments though, when she realized that Carmichael's accidental shot had hit its target.

"Oh...oh, my God! Shawn!" Juliet cried as she ripped off her bulletproof vest in order to gain access to her light jacket. She quickly took it off and pressed it against the newest-looking wound among many. She could see that he had endured many injuries since his abduction, but the bullet wound to his abdomen was obviously new due to the volume of blood coming from it.

"Stay with me, Shawn," Juliet ordered, pleased when his eyes opened slightly to squint up at her. The corner of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile, and Juliet felt tears spring to her eyes. "The Chief has already called EMS. They'll be here soon."

"ETA two minutes!" Lassiter interjected from where he stood just behind Juliet, coordinating with the other search teams and Vick's requested emergency services over his radio. He glanced somewhat worriedly at Shawn as he saw the man struggle to breath properly. He quickly turned back to his radio for a distraction when he heard the garbled voices of other officers announce that they had a male suspect in custody.

Juliet, however, registered the static-distorted voices as nothing more than background noise. She was entirely focused on the man in front of her.

"'M glad you found me, Jules," Shawn whispered, which clearly took a great deal of effort on his part.

Juliet gave him a small half-smile, "Me, too. Now you just have to hang on, because your dad and Gus aren't going to be very happy with me if they don't get to see you."

Shawn gave an amused snort, which turned into a pained moan as the act jostled his injuries. "D'nt think I can..."

"Yes, you can, Shawn," Juliet said harshly, her heart clenching at his words. "I know you can. You've made it this far, you can keep fighting just a little longer."

Shawn obviously wasn't too sure, since his next words were a soft apology, "'M sorry, Jules." And then, much to Juliet's dismay, he lost consciousness.

"Where are those damn medics!" She hissed at her partner as she applied more pressure to Shawn's wound.

Lassiter was about to reply, but that was when the paramedics decided to finally make their appearance. They burst into the room, bringing with them a gaggle of worrisome medical jargon. They quickly loaded the injured man onto the stretcher and, with the two detectives' assistance got him up the stairs, out of the house, and into the awaiting ambulance. The two detectives kept their distance from it, and saw Henry leap in just before the doors slammed shut.

As she watched the bus screech away, Juliet didn't think she'd ever been so terrified in her life.

_**OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO**_

The constant beeping was driving him crazy. Shawn could swear that he hadn't set an alarm last night. There was no way he was getting up to anything other than his body's natural rhythm. He hadn't used an alarm clock since high school, and even then he'd only used it in the most desperate of times, like when the school cafeteria was selling doughnuts before school.

That's when he realized that this steady, consistent beeping wasn't actually an alarm clock. It was his own heartbeat, relayed to him by a heart monitor. Shawn frowned slightly; why would he be in the hospital? What kind of trouble did he get himself into this time?

"...shhh! I think he's waking up!" A vaguely familiar voice whispered excitedly. There was an anticipatory murmur that even Shawn, in what was surely some kind of drug-induced haze, could sense.

"Shawn?" Now a voice spoke directly into his ear. "Shawn, can you hear me?"

This voice he recognized as his father's, and it triggered a myriad of emotions and memories. He remembered hearing his dad's voice in his head as he sat, waiting, in a hole with a burning gunshot wound in his broken leg. The memories of pain were what really brought back the whole situation. The abduction, Carmichael, being shot (twice). He wasn't aware of it, but as these memories resurfaced, the beeping of the heart monitor sped up and the murmur around him changed to a tense, worried silence.

He felt a weight on his right hand, and heard his dad whisper into his ear for only him to hear, "It's okay, son. You're safe. You're in the hospital. You're okay."

Though he would later deny it, his father's calm tone soothed his panicked state. Once that had passed and Shawn had pushed the memories to the back of this mind, he found himself wondering what lay beyond the sight of the inside of his eyelids. Not that the inside of his eyelids weren't totally thrilling and all, but he thought there just might be more out there than that. He decided to try to open his eyes, which ended up being a lot easier said than done. After several false starts, he was finally able to pry his eyes open and he winced at the bright light that greeted him. He was also suddenly aware of the blessed lack of what had previously been constant pain. _Score one for hospital-issue drugs, _Shawn thought.

Blinking to clear his vision, Shawn came face-to-face with his father, who was much to close for comfort. Shawn blinked again before trying to speak. When he did, his voice was raspy and harsh, "Uh, Dad? Wanna.. back up... a little?" He grimaced as his dry mouth and sore throat protested the use, but smirked when his dad pulled away and allowed him to see beyond his hulking figure. Before he could check out the human figures before him, his dad was shoving a spoonful of ice chips in his face; Shawn accepted the offer gratefully, nodding his thanks as he swallowed.

"Hey, man," Gus said, moving to Shawn's left side and vacating the spot he'd held at the foot of Shawn's hospital bed. "Good to see you awake." He held out a fist, and Shawn raised his own in response. Gus grinned and met it, gently fist bumping him.

"How long have I been asleep?" Shawn inquired. He didn't remember anything after staring down Carmichael's gun and assumed he'd been shot. "What happened?"

"You've been asleep for about twelve hours," a third voice piped up. Shawn followed the sound and honed in on the location of the speaker in the corner of the room. It was Juliet, and she moved to stand next to Gus on his left side.

"You were kidnapped," his father added solemnly, not quite addressing his second question.

"I remember that, Dad," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. How could he forget? "What I meant was: what happened in the basement, with Carmichael? How did you guys find me anyway?"

Juliet and Gus smiled at Shawn's familiar attitude while Henry frowned slightly. Juliet laid her hand on his and told him he'd been shot, but that the rest of the story could wait for another time. Maybe when he didn't still look like death warmed over.

Shawn shrugged; that was okay with him so long as they didn't intend on keeping things from him. Not like they could anyway. He was "psychic" after all. He grinned at his own thoughts, and the others looked at him curiously.

"Shawn," Gus began warningly. "I know that look. If you're thinking I'll participate in those ridiculous wheelchair races again, you're wrong. Once was enough."

Shawn laughed, but only grinned wider, "Buddy, wheelchair races are a thing of the past. I'm thinking we'll have to go bigger this time. What do you think of gurney surfing?"

Gus scowled and crossed his arms over his chest resolutely, "No. Nuh-uh. No way. I will not be sucked into this again, Shawn! I don't care if you're injured, I will beat you over the head to knock some sense into you if I have to!"

Shawn laughed at his best friend's response. He was ecstatic to be having this conversation with Gus, and to be around Jules and even his dad. A few times during his abduction, he hadn't thought he'd get to do this again. He'd been afraid that this playful banter and his idiotic ideas had come to an end. He was so relieved to be wrong that he was almost giddy.

Now, the only thing that could make this day even better would be convincing Gus to try gurney surfing with him. Shawn knew he'd wear his friend down eventually, and he figured he'd be in the hospital long enough to make this new dream into a reality. All he really had to worry about was how to acquire the gurneys...

**_OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO_**

**_Alright guys, it's been fun :) I'm so glad that you've taken the time to read this story and follow it, maybe favorite and review. Also, to those people that added this story to their communities, thank you! I didn't really realize what had happened, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that you thought this story belonged in your communities :)_**

**_Please let me know what you thought by reviewing. It would really mean a lot to me :)_**

**_I hope you guys liked "A Kidnapping Catastrophe" and its conclusion._**

**_PS: Who, besides me, is absolutely pumped for Psych the Musical?! I can't believe it's actually happening! I'm beyond excited!_**


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